True Beauty

The boy gazed into the starry sky. Each star, a bright dot in the vast expanse above, blazed with its own light; together they created a heavenly masterpiece. Around every star, mysterious and distant, were more worlds like ours, maybe more beings like us. Who could know? The universe was so immense, we were so miniscule.
         He turned his attention from the heavens to somewhere more familiar, the trees and plants surrounding him. Gently, the young boy plucked a flower out of the moist soil. The flower, a rose, resounded with beauty; all of the flora here did. Nobody designed these plants; somehow their gorgeous splendor was a natural occurrence.
         As the boy lay on the bare ground, the scent of rain drifted through his nostrils. Soon, drops of water from that immense sky began to fall. He extended his tongue into the frosty air, letting the water tickle it. The light drizzle quickly became a torrential downpour. The melody of the rainfall was soothing, yet he knew its dangers.
         Unhappily, the curious little boy trudged inside. He preferred the nature, so full of astonishment and mystery. His mind couldn’t grasp the giant universe, the lovely vegetation, or the graceful precipitation. But he didn’t have to comprehend it. He knew that beauty is more than reason, beauty is wonder. Beauty can’t be understood, only admired.