HR Ocampo's Mural, Cultural Center of the Philippines
If beauty were clouds rising, drifting ,
White in the morning, dark and heavy at two,
And red in the sunset in the early May
I choose that which brings the maiden rain.
And rainbow in the morning to the end of day.
But beauty is ephemeral and only a glance,
As brief as butterflies and breeze through a tree,
Fullest if truly be, but it is fleeting,
Fleeting until it is gone and free.
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