Can something that is beautiful be haunting?

Can something that is haunting be kind?

Must we wait through the night

Til dark fades to light

To begin our search to find

 

That beauty can come in the evening

In the scorching heat, in the orchard trees

In the haunting hours when the sun will leave-

That’s when beauty comes to my mind.

 

Because in the haunting hours my mind is blank

And an army of thoughts sneaks up to flank

My vulnerable places, where common faces

Try to fill my sacred spaces

And in the haunting hours I pray to know

If the darkest soil helps flowers grow

And if so,

Will my garden flourish, or grow, slow?

 

Can something that is beautiful be haunting?

Can something that haunts me, please, be kind?

We should enjoy the night, and enjoy the light

And search in both to find

 

That beauty can come in the evening

In a power outage, or a thunderstorm, or a flower garden,

When a baby’s born, or a heavy rain-

When the veil was torn.

But regardless,

Beauty will come in the morn.