Beauty

a wooden foot spins a wooden wheel
a clay man throws a clay thought
a broken soul meets a broken self
a painted smile casts a painted light

and the artist works all through the night
letting none witness the painful death of a loved memory
keeping to himself the birth of a beautiful thought
this masterpiece that could save his life

he gently cradles the thought and rocks it to sleep
for its first night he must be careful
he must protect it or it will die of hatred
he must tell no one of Beauty

sarah paints smiles across fields of people
and the clay man throws a mountainous, painful night
but the artist works alone, as the poet watches
in awe of the incredible creation

in awe of what Beauty could be.