Today the prompt is to write a poem based on the myth of Narcissus.
(I am treating this subject VERY laterally!)
There are many forms of beauty, as many as there
Are people who can see or hear or feel, and then
Some more beside.
But for me the epitome of beauty can be seen in
The hands of a skilled craftsman, in the grace and
Deft movements they employ.
And however the musician may consider himself
Above the ordinary mortal, his hands and the beauty
They create remain.
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