If I Were to Say Beauty

A poem about the beauty of words

If I were to say beauty, you might assume I mean a sunset, with the pink and orange colours reflecting off the water of the beach as the wind plays with my hair. If I were to ask you what you think I think is beautiful, you might describe to me an artwork or a person, a women with golden hair, light blue eyes, soft skin and even softer lips. But the thing is, I’ve always been more into red heads, so you would be mistaken. When I think of beauty, I think of words. I think of language and meaning, understanding, all in the form of sentences and lines. I once told someone that I think people underestimate the power of words. Individually they hold meaning, but pieced together, even if they were to be strung up loosely as if to be hung out to dry, a simple sentence can be as soft and light as the wind, yet strike like lightning and be heavier then stone. They have the power to change minds, start wars and bring men made of iron and stone to their knees. Words can be both real and fake, raw and synthesized. I have seen people use words as a way of getting what they want, creating lies and hollow promises in order to achieve some personal gain.

But that isn’t the beauty I see in words. I don’t see beauty in the way people use words to talk themselves up, to make them rise higher than others around them. And although I hate to admit, I have done this once or twice, as it is human nature to want to stand higher than those around us. But the beauty I see in words isn’t the way they can describe scenes, of trees and forests of green, of ice capped mountains of white and blue, but it’s the ability of words to carry raw, untampered emotion that makes me see the beauty in it.

I could say you’re beautiful, and describe your smile, your eyes or you lips. I could say you’re amazing and describe your personality, your kindness or your caring heart, and you could believe me, as those words make you feel good and cared for and special. I could hold you and smile at you and laugh with you and you could believe you feel the energy and emotion between us. I could kiss you and pull you close and you could believe you understand my feelings for you. But if told you I loved you, without any trace of deceit or lie, with raw emotion and pure heart, with nothing but the want to let you know how I truly feel for you, with those three words you could understand my feelings in all their entirety.

And that is beautiful.

And that’s not to say that I find nothing else beautiful. I can appreciate the beauty in a sunrise and sunset. I can understand the beauty in nature, and I can understand the beauty in people. People so tender and caring, who give so much that it makes me wonder, what else besides their lives do they have left to give? It doesn’t take much to be a beautiful person. Beauty is more than skin deep. You can dress up and put on so much make up that you could have a building built off of you because of how strong the foundation is. You could have a nice smile and amazing eyes. You could make yourself look gorgeous. But there is no beauty in being fake. Someone who can recognize when you’re upset, sits down with you and doesn’t say anything but you know that they’re saying “I’m here. I can hear you”. That, is a beautiful person.

But when no one was there, and I was left alone, words, like a genetic disease, stayed with me. Words flowed through me like blood, pumping through my veins and brain, carrying hope and understanding to the organs that needed it most. And at times when I was so confused, where my body was filled with so many feelings at once that I was a prism, splitting light into every emotion, I converted these emotions to words in order to gain some understanding what I was feeling. And although at times not even words could help me, as some situations are so stressful and tense that the only way to get through it is to wait it out, words were always there, waiting for the time when they were needed.

People underestimate the power of words. Something someone sees as nothing could mean everything to someone else. Just because someone can’t see the same way as someone else doesn’t mean that way doesn’t exist. And it’s those people who don’t understand that words are a weapon. They can cut deeper than knifes, they can hit harder than sticks and stones and they break men made of iron as easy as it is to break someone’s heart. They can wield words used to hurt as if they weighed nothing. But when it comes to saying sorry, to admitting they may have been wrong, it’s as if they are carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, or that saying the words “I’m sorry” would kill them. Because to most, pride outweighs peace. Because they see apologizing as a form of weakness.

But I can tell you now that the strongest men I know are the ones who can forgive easily. Who understand that words can break as easily as they can build. Who take the blow to pride because pride means little when you understand that the people around you love you for who you are and not for what you do. And I have heard people accuse me of forgiving easily, saying that I’m weak because I say sorry? Maybe that’s because I understand that it’s easier to say sorry and forgive, than to say nothing and never forget. Why can’t people see the beauty in the relationships we have and understand that the words you choose to use effects those relationships regardless whether they are good or bad.

Why can’t people understand the difference between saying “I’m sorry, I love you” and saying nothing at all?

Words are a curse.

And that’s the beauty of them.