In The Mists

In The Mists
Art by Norman E. Masters


Real love does not hurt
but beauty does.
It scorches the eyeballs of heaven
and tears up unwary hearts with a smile.
If you have wolf glands you will howl
all night for beauty.
Beauty cannot be contained
it is always out of reach.
Artists go mad trying to capture it
while drowning in their own longing.

Beauty is a stun gun in fortune's hands.
One day on this path
you will start to moan in your soul,
for out of nowhere beauty
will transpire through the world
and you will just be this hollow need to be a vessel.
Just an empty cup to hold it in
but you leak and gush out beauty's vision
through every pore in your dream skin.
You are just a sieve for beauty
and you cannot hold onto any of it.

Even your spirit eyes flow away
escaping into beauty's hands.
Your tongue is out of its head with awe
and you have never been this thirsty before
for the beautiful water God distills into beauty's light.

Beauty is a goddess that will flirt with you
and then pierce you through with a thousand holes
from arrows dipped first in the very passion
you surrendered to her.
Then she will dance a dance of infinite veils
until you are just a drooling mess.

This will happen to you
and you will think you are going crazy
but it's only love's work in you
grinding you down into clear transparent glass
for God to see Herself through.


Eric Ashford


All text on this page is Copyright July 10, 2003 by Eric J. Ashford.


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