Beauty Far Beyond Meaning
I get a glimpse of golden Russian cross
And turban blue of dome. The bus speeds past
The ancient blend of cultures with the gloss
And semi-gloss of urban psyches cast
Together for a thousand years or more.
There must be chanting just beneath that dome
That somehow wants to reach a high rapport
Across the centuries. One mild chromosome,
Humane and mild, prevails in people who
Are building worship spaces. Planners seem
Forgetful of red wars. They take the view
Of meek amnesiacs who want to dream.
So fixed are they on curve, and style, and grace
That they turn tiles and crosses into lace.