Meditative Moments: Beauty, by Gloria Vanderbilt

Beauty

Say not of Beauty she is good.
Or aught but beautiful,
Or sleek to dove's wings of the wood
Her wild wings of a gull 
Call her not wicked; that word's touch
Consumes her like a curse;
But love her not too much, too much
For that is even worse.
O, she is neither good not bad,
But innocent and wild~!
Enshrine her and she dies, who had
The hard heart of a child.

~ Gloria Vanderbilt

"[This poem] means to me that I had a hard heart of a child from then on (after the loss of her son), and that I could survive things. And I did." (and then she laughs) ~Gloria Vanderbilt, age 91, reflecting on her art and writing many years after the traumatic loss of her son.

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Metta

 May we be at peace
May our hearts stay open
May we remember the light of our own true nature
May we and all beings be completely healed

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