Plotinus

…In greater Beauty There
because There unmingled

mingled here.

There are rosebuds the size of thimbles
between pavement stones missing their mortar
where willful roots have wormed into
aquifers that make the mansions sway.

An old woman draws her umbrella
in the foyer of a stately cathedral

its ceiling saints presiding now so dimly

as Jesus’ white robes rain down flecks of paint.

And one of those flecks, no more or no less Beautiful

than an entire blessed fresco; trampled rose

equal to a meadow untouched by hands or feet;

on his deathbed the invalid is Adam;
the pious old woman Eve in a rainstorm.