Confessions of a Supermodel
- Details
- Written by Eve Moore
Confessions of a Supermodel
It is hard being looked upon
as an archetype of beauty.
Of peace.
Of balance.
Of alignment with
what is. All that is.
Just as it is —
standing straight
and tall, ready
to be seen.
It takes an inordinate
amount of help.
Help from planes
and experiences
and people who
offer more than
a hand bringing
our best self to
the light, they
offer mirrors.
Reflections
of how we
step forward
in the world
watching our
every move.
Not in a way that
incurs judgment
— far from it in the
truest sense — rather
in a way that seeks
to learn how be
just as…
held.
As if by
a string,
pulled up
high, higher,
even in the
discomfort
of standing
out, of rising
so high above
an average line
drawn in the mind’s
understanding of what
is possible, and
improbable.
A state of mind>matter
that oft skips the beat of the
heart, the eyes of the heart,
which see the latest
fashion of empire’s
new clothes for
precisely what
it is; that gets
that the grass
is only ever greener
because all else that would
grow among, within its emerald
field has been eliminated
by the biohazard
of blindness.
A weed
by any other
name delights
just as sweet.
We are marvels
at seeing through
such matter, matters.
Even as we doubt
the finer points
of our view.
None of us
is average,
though we’ve
been taught to
see ourselves
to be unlike
ourselves,
just like
everyone
else.
We are
nothing
of the
sort.
Each a
masterwork
of untold brilliance
and imagination
that defies
defining.
A work that
is performance
piece, whose art
is ever in progress,
ever entangled with
the art making all
that lives and is.
We are the stroke
of Da Vinci, sculpt of
Michelangelo, swirl
and color of Van Gogh,
arrayed of Picasso, craft
of Gaia, lit by Solaris,
breathed of god/dess,
strung by the heavens.
Kronos tells us we
are getting old,
kairos shows
us our beauty
ever unfolding.
We model
what it is to
be large as
the cosmos
and as small
as a neutrino
whose mass,
though close to
zero, is not zero,
nor its value, for
it is the stuff of
a supernova.
∞/∞
Eve Moore ©2021
© Photo: Eve Moore
Eve Moore: Once a professional writer of advertising, I saw the light & it has shown me words of a different nature. And so I take them down & offer them up. And all is well.
For more of Eve Moore's amazing and heart centered poetry and writings, click here!
http://www.crystalwind.ca/eve-moore
“When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.”
—Jimi Hendrix
This poem/prose was submitted exclusively to CrystalWind.ca by Eve Moore.
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