It

Fuck it. I’ll admit it. I’m trying to

reach perfection. Perfect this.

 Perfect that. Hoping that this perfection

will settle the sand to the bottom and clear

the muddy water, so  I can enjoy the perfect life.

And the perfect lover, perfect homes, perfect

cars, with perfect friends with perfect

light and perfect walkway as

I dance across the floor.

Even the perfect mike, so I sing,

that sad, pitiful like no more.

Yes I’m trying to attain it.

I've even read the books

sat on my bottom, trying to contain it.

Sat Indian style, trying to inhale it.

Pretty perfect picture – Buddah, Jesus, Krishna,

a flower, a stone. I still seem planets away from perfection.

Yet I enjoy looking at it. Every part of it as I walk down the street.

I grab a little here, take a whiff there, listen to some of it

everywhere.

But really

the only thing perfect is …..this…. moment.

As the lotus opens up and float downstream,
reaching every corner without much harm,

it blooms even more beautifully, relieved

that it was made perfect for this moment.

(c) 2013 Misa Ney