There is a beauty in the physical world that cannot exist on its own.
It requires collaboration.
Community.
Cohesion.
And, most importantly, care.
Care of others, care of ourselves.
Sometimes all we have is our selves.
There are no elves to do our work.
No elf magic to match the tragic.
It falls on us.
The evermore vs. the nevermore.
And, in the end, we spend too much time in the rhyme we’ve created for the self who sits on the shelf.
The shelf of wealth. The shelf of self.
Beauty?
It’s too often lost on the rude, the attitude of those who find it repulsive, elusive.