Divine Beauty

This isn't really a poem, but it's not a story either. It's more of a figurative personal recollection of straining to remember the most important face.

Divine Beauty

Have you ever saw beauty so intricate that it made you believe in the divine a little bit more?

Have you ever looked at a star and thought of how its distance from us hinders its sight of this beauty? I knew of a beauty once, and still as I sit here, the minute perfections of her face astound me.

In her face there was no limit to the beauty people could see. The fall in her nose - which she hated -and the little scar to prove the damage made her human. The unusual shape of her eyebrows that only made the sparkle in her eyes more evident hypnotized many. But what amazes me every time I recall her face, or absorb a picture, is the way the structure of her face showed-off this flawless creation. 

Of course she wasn’t perfect to everyone. But if no-one is ever perfect, and we all like different things, then is it ok for me to say she was perfect to me?

She was perfect to me, because from when I was first able to crave things, first able to appreciate loveliness, I saw her. However at that age I never craved her, I already had her; I craved to be like her one day. I still wish to withhold a fraction of what she was.

I used to love watching her do her make-up because of how she would accentuate the bones in her cheeks, and match her eye-shadow to that of the day time sky in her eyes. Luckily before she joined the sky in which I speak, I learned her magic artistry.

It is in those random moments of applying make-up that I remember how vivid and striking she looked. When spreading blusher along my cheeks, I realise how much she didn’t need it. Her cheek bones were not of a Kiera Knightly resemblance, but instead of a Marilyn Monroe essence. They would swoop round from her nose and end just under her eyebrow, meaning when she smiled her full face transformed. She would have made models shrink to their knees.

She knew of her beauty though, when she looked in the mirror or stood in front of a camera she knew people would look, mesmerised; in awe.

I asked him once: ‘Didn’t you think she was absolutely stunning?’                                 His answer wasn’t convincing. But I know he did because of one day, searching through a labyrinth in her loft I came across a tiny picture of them together and saw his face, his entirety, at that moment being transported back to that day. For a moment his eyes were not with me, they were consumed by her; that long gone woman in the picture; far too beautiful for this world.

She was never once arrogant though, just confident within herself. In the close confines of the couch, or her bed where I’d often find myself throughout my life, I began to know of her face more than I knew my own. The soft, short fur " so blonde it was almost invisible - that lay on every pour of her face. Her chapped lips that would crack spontaneously, had little remnants of red lipstick still concealed within them from the day before, and the tiny brown speckle in her left eye like a magnificent rock bursting through the clear blue sea.  I remember all of those little details, and to you she may not seem unordinary, but to me she was the only one I wanted to be anything like. I remember playing with her hair and noticing how her hair line was threaded all the way to her eyebrow, I found this funny.

I suppose if I took a day to walk around a town, and search the faces of strangers I would find another person who was more beautiful than she. But I don’t want to. I don’t need to, because she was good enough for me. In her worst states and in my turmoil her smile would remind me of who she was; and it would break my heart. In the picture I have in my hand she has the silliest hair do, she’s pulling a strange pose to show off her new ring, but in it I see her personality. I see the eyes that first saw me, the ones that would scold me, comfort me and the ones that pleaded so many times to me. I see her famous rogue lipstick that was the back-bone to my childhood memories and is precious to me. But most of all I see a happiness that I remember on a day outside of school, when my school photo was revealed and she was joyous of the result. This happiness wasn’t of an exaggerated grin or a caption of mid-laughter, but instead of a glowing freedom and an aura of life.

She was content and complete with what she had in her life. She completed many, unknowing of her full effect on people until she was long gone. This effect made me feel invisible next to her, but at the time I never noticed, because I too was looking on anticipating her next move or look. One time we were doing our make-up together and for a brief moment I saw her in me. I saw the hidden depths of her eyes in my own glance; I saw a flash of showbiz on my lips after using her lipstick.

But, aside from all the make-up, my favorite time with her was waking up and seeing her welcoming smile. Waking from fuzzy dreams, and walking into warming arms that would thaw away my nightmares " ridding the chance of a bad day. Make-up free she looked fresh and interested genuinely in how I had slept and what I’d dreamed of. It was on those mornings I never wanted to go home, I never wanted to leave her. On those mornings I was reminded of how it felt to have a person care so deeply about you, all of my doubts about her were diminished. For in those brief and rare moments with her, I knew my perseverance was worth it.

I just wish the divine being who I believe in, hadn’t taken her so prematurely, because I didn’t take her for granted the way other children do.

In the picture I am imprinting into my mind I wasn’t even thought of. But now that the picture is all I have, and I am very much a reality I want to ask for forgiveness for burning something so wonderfully beautiful and then concealing it within such an ordinary box. It was just her shell after all, her real beauty with never end.

Reviews

[Poussiere D'Ange]

Wow. I must say that i am out of words for a moment now. It is wonderful to say the least. Every little detail, every word is not just a beautiful piece of description but a heartflt expression of feelings, of someone dear to one. It is truly a touching piece and i must say it is a great achievement of yours for you have kindled a soft spot for the person that you describe. Thank you for sharing such a wonderful piece.:-):-):-D.

[SamanthaSweeney]

That is such a lovely review. I appreciate your words! You have pin pointed my intentions, I wrote this when I was hurting and It took a lot to share, Thank you for reading and appreciating !

[Poussiere D'Ange]

No problem:-):-):-D.

[Del]

Beautifully written, loved it

x

[Richard]

absolutely beautiful

[SamanthaSweeney]

Thank you :)

[Tamara Jaber]

So inspiring full of emotions and descriptive in a very careful way, I loved what you wrote....:)

[SamanthaSweeney]

Thank you so much :)

[Sami Khalil]

"In the picture I am imprinting into my mind I wasn’t even thought of. But now that the picture is all I have, and I am very much a reality I want to ask for forgiveness for burning something so wonderfully beautiful and then concealing it within such an ordinary box. It was just her shell after all, her real beauty with never end."
A nice poem. I like the ending the most...:)

[SamanthaSweeney]

Thank you :) this piece mean a lot to me, I wrote it when I was hurting badly. Hadn't read it in a while actually. I realised how much I actually have forgotten unfortunately.
Thank you again :)

[Sami Khalil]

My pleasure...:)