you may not be the sunset reflecting off the glimmering soft waves at the beach;
you're surely not the dancing illuminations of the aurora borealis;
and it's true, you can't hope to compare to the bird's-eye-view from a helicopter over the grand canyon -
but your beauty is something different, something better.
you're the iridescent morning dew on the leaves of my succulents;
you're the tendrils of steam curling around an invisible rope as they float out of my coffee cup;
you're the valiant little flower poking out through the cracks in the concrete sidewalk.
you're the pitter-patter of sneakers thumping on the sidewalk as a little boy runs to catch up to his dad's long strides;
you're the incessant beep-beep-beep of the cars on our always-busy roads of los angeles;
you're the rambunctious laughter of a group of friends as they tease each other on the way to dinner.
you are here,
and you are real.
you are underappreciated by some,
but you unapologetically survive - in fact, THRIVE - nonetheless.
and therein lies the beauty of you.