Jesus, I wish to ask you why you are so beautiful,
Yet such a question in its simplest form,
Is answered by a hefty pondering,
Are not all beautiful things so, because they seem a smidge like you?

Just a smidge like you:
And flowers take the breath away,
And smiles melt the heart,
And sunsets turn the hazy day to arresting clarity.

You are beautiful as brute fact,
Wholly good and just,
Wholly caring and amusing,
Wholly love and truth.

Wholly beautiful.

True love isn't blind or silly,
It's calm and dedicated,
Loving truth and depending,
Not isolated and vacant,
But real and tolerating,
Forgiving and gracious,
Steady still in hard places,
By the power of God we know such love.

Teetering on the edge,
The fragile balance of sorrow and gladness,
Is shattered by a stream of immutable joy and peace.
Tears of love remain.
Where are you now, shame?
Are you not cast out by tears of love?