On Beauty

Happiness, to me, is beauty. Beauty that I find in the world around me. It fascinates me, makes me wonder at the genius it took to birth such marvels.

There is beauty in nature - in the rolling hills with valleys green, little streams fed by rain rushing down to meet one another in a brimming river - brimming with the gossip brought to it by its sources upstairs, gushing with the murmurs of the droplets against the pebbles.

There is beauty in the hills when they shed their leaves, the dry trees now golden, so furiously agitated at the lack of rain that they will burst into flames every time they go head-to-head with one another.

There is beauty in the mountain tops, blinding white with snow, peaks hidden by the swirl of the violent winds and clouds. Clouds, which, with just a touch of the cool ice, calm down and join the level-headed, stable solids.

There is beauty in the deserts - in the tiny grains of golden sand so loosely bound together that even a whisper of rumour from the winds drives them apart.

There is beauty in the seas - in this prosperous kingdom so full of life, far more than its neighbours on land can boast of. The sun never sets over this empire, it shines upon and reflects on its waters, painting them brilliant shades of green and blue. Deep into the darker waters, away from the thoroughfares where even the sun has yet to get a connection, life still thrives - fighting for survival, finding the most creative ways to protect itself.

There is beauty in the rainforests, so densely populated. There is a vigilant hierarchy followed here - from the noble trees with their heads held high to the lowly undergrowth setting up residences like slums in every nook and cranny they can find.

There is beauty in the grasslands, with grass as tall as trees, which form the perfect playground for their favourite game - the hunt. Quite a treacherous game really. One moment you're a hunter, chasing that deer meat on legs, and the next you are the hunted for run - you hear lions.

And there is beauty in people. In small actions of kindness that warm the heart, in the cultures and their resilient religious quests to find God, to find answers that no man can give them; there is beauty in their shortcomings and their never-ending persistence to overcome them.

And there is beauty in their differences.

But there is no beauty in their bitterness, their hatred, their greed, their need to put others down to feel better about themselves, in their envy green-eyed and anger red-faced. There isn't beauty in their discrimination against one another for reasons as frivolous as the shade of their skin, the ability to bear children, or the preference in their love. There is no beauty in their scheming power hungry minds, ever working towards the oppression of those that are not "their own". There is no beauty in the destruction they cause - to life, to nature and to the very source of their puny existence in a universe so vast.