Why does great beauty make me weep?
The fully fanned-out plumage of a peacock
The rose bud with its petalled ring of fire
The blazing hues of a glorious sunset
A symphonic swell of Tchaikovsky or Bach
I am humbled by their magnificence
Some part of me feels small in comparison
Knows I can never measure up
I forget my own glory
There’s a blind spot in my heart
Or perhaps the tears are another part crying out
To remind me where I come from
Beyond the Skinny Branches 