POETRY
Beauty Descends
Wringing hands nor handled
rungs have reached the heights
where Beauty dwells. You shall not
go up.
Speak no more of ladders.
Beauty cannot be won
or earned as wages
any more than wings can form
by fallen feathers plucked
from the grass and tucked
between our shoulder blades.
Rather, Beauty descends.
Hear her marching in
the tops of balsam trees,
reverbing your deliverance.
Rouse yourself, dear Lover
of the good. Take hold
the hand before you, beckoning,
“Come and see!”
Receive the mystery
of Heaven’s reach that draws
you near, and marvel at Love
come down.
Ryan Helvoigt is a poet living near Denver, CO, with her husband and three children. Her poetry has appeared in Ekstasis, Clayjar Review, Fathom magazine, Heart of Flesh Literary Journal, and the Amethyst Review.
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Image: Study for Jacob’s Dream (1865) by Gustave Dore. Original public domain image from The Walters Art Museum.
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