Pulchritude

As the morning dew lands on the painted rose the scent of a new day begins.
The grass is covered with droppings of the tears of the moon, and mother nature changes her clothes.
The trees awake to greet me, cheering and swaying with elegance.
I have never seen the sun cry, yet when I raise my head, tears fill my eyes.
The sound of the grass underneath my feet echoes with the sounds of crumpled earth.
The birds get ready for their star performances, beckoning at the wind. As I turn around sweat runs down my back and a gentle breeze embraces me, letting me know that today will be a good day,
to learn
to feel
to embrace
to heal.
As I stare in the mirror, and look deep into my eyes, i can see my soul and hear her speak to me.
You are beautiful
You are special
You deserve to be happy
You are you.
That is true pulchritude.