I know, Lord, that something beautiful
is not always true,
and something true not always beautiful.
And yet –
something causes us to follow beauty,
hoping that we will find Truth,
something transcendent, perhaps
or something factual,
or something that will shake us
into seeing the world differently,
living more queerly;
for all its difference in the lives of different communities
and even genders or religions,
I still think there’s a thrill when we see beauty,
something that passes beyond the merely subjective
does not reduce to the numbers.
In search of that beauty,
wise ones, weirdos with their heads not screwed on quite straight,
came searching for you,
and found you,
and gifted you.
Cause me, like your mother,
to store up these things
and ponder them in my heart.