On Beauty

Poetry by Maya Kaabour
Photo by
Bianca Berg

Beauty is not found amidst ugliness. It is made, often as an act of resistance:

Ask the flower sprouting from the rubble.

Ask the little girl trapped in the lion’s mouth.

Mimic the waves and how they rise after all their shattering.

The truth is never polite with its timing.

It is meant to shake us.

Break us.

Wake us.

Do we have the courage to listen?

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A [Human] Pause