𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙱𝚎𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚢

Beauty isn’t always loud.

Sometimes, it’s a chipped mug holding morning coffee,

or the way your dog waits by the door.

It’s the cracked pavement with weeds that bloom anyway,

the text from a friend saying, “you okay?”

It’s not framed, not polished -

but it’s there.

Everywhere.

*

dust in the sunbeam

dances like it knows something

we forgot to see

*

We search for gold in oceans far and wide,

While stepping over flowers at our feet.

Our gaze watches out, and never looks inside-

Forgetting that the soul can also bleed.

We praise the painted sky, the mountain’s grace,

But curse the wrinkles etching on our skin.

We bow to seas, yet flinch at our own face,

Afraid to see the quiet wars within.

But beauty lives in scars we try to hide,

In mornings we get up and try again.

It waits in silence, walks right by our side -

Not flawless, but it’s here. It always has been.

To find it, start by being kind to you.

it’s one of the hardest things to do.

*

You can find beauty in the mess.

In the dishes not done. In the sigh before sleep.

In your mum's voice yelling your name like a song she’s sung forever.

In old shoes. Broken phones. In someone waiting for you to text back.

*

You can find it in the laugh that bursts out at the wrong time.

In crying in public. In standing back up.

In your crooked teeth and the dreams you don’t tell anyone.

Beauty’s not in the perfect - it’s in the real.

And the hardest place to find it?

Is in yourself,

when the world’s told you not to look there.

*

But look.

Please, look.

------

Notes:

Number 12 out of 31 of 'Sunshine Gold Was Her Soul', hope you enjoyed