Though in the moment beauty feels bothersome, in time, it awakens the slumbering internal soft tissue that rises from the dead to appreciate it. Depending on the length and depth of the stupor I might put up a good fight, but don't be scared off. Keep pestering and poking around where I'm telling you you don't belong, cause you do. You more than do.
Oh, beauty, simple and silent though you are at times, take this inkling and breath it into being. I'm tired of premonitions and predilections and proclivities getting pushed aside for unreasonable reasons. I can feel your tug today, beauty. The nudge goes unnoticed on most days as I'm caught in a crowded street heading aimlessly wherever the congestion seems to be taking us, taking me. But the "touch on the garment's hem" is felt and acknowledged. I feel the power going out of me, that's how I know. Jesus' story is making more sense to me as I stroke these keys.
Even as the disciples responded, "The crowds are pressing in, of course you felt 'something'" I say with you, "Someone touched me." Don't let me explain it away as I am likely to do without your encouragement.
Beauty, oh swelling and bourgeoning beauty, teem within me or without me, teem with a tempest's tide of joy. Overcome and overflow the water's edges of my heart and bounce over bounds I've placed around you like picket fencing. Burst through, blow out! Get in if I've kept you out! Get out if I've kept you in! Don't stay where you are, move! Move about and recreate yourself in the life you're bound to encounter, that you've bound to encounter.
Beautify and let the beautification spread like a virus until all sneeze your apostolic allergy. Unlock, oh keys of the kingdom, every locked door, every caged core. Lead us into the unknown, we are listless and restless of the known...our breath is dying to be taken away and you're the only one big enough, beautiful enough to do it. So do it. For Pete's sake, do it. For God's sake, do it. For Goodness sake, do it.
For Goodness sake, Beauty, have your way with us.