We need beauty as much as bread.
Perhaps, in a sense
beauty is its own form of bread.
One we do not arrive at hungry again.
But a kind of bread that sustains.
Nourishes, that the smallest morsel
can shine as a jewel against the dark,
can make all our days.
What is a room with shutters closed,
compared to an open arched
window framed, revealing how
the humblest view can widen our vision.
And what is beauty but
a singular type of promise,
potential distilled to its most basic,
A kind of boundless optimism.
Beauty, just because.
Because in a seed, in an ear of wheat,
is all its grain.
No wonder we are filled.
Ana Lisa de Jong
Living Tree Poetry