Present Perfection

It often seems this musing poet to
Our most important words be imprecise
To point of ineffectuality
Expect we a single simple device

Embody and express and symbolize
A world of meanings contradictory
But fostering increased confusion by
Our lack of specificity

Words of one syllable expected to
Encompass principles like “love” and “God” —
We travel could those realms forever through
And never step where others’ thoughts have trod!

One such a principle “perfection” be:
A little something different to each
Who use the word — for what we think we can;
For what we may; for what we’ll never reach

In the pursuit of simple clarity
Allow me to a few suggestions make
Regards a qualifying word or two
Misunderstandings from the subject take

Spelled with its primal “p” in lower case
Our common usage seems to indicate
But lack obvious imperfections of
In essence, a pristine and unmarked slate

Unmarred by signs of growth or character
In anywise unto itself unique
Like rhythms coming from a drum machine
Containing nothing to the heart to speak

Enormous price its purchase doth command
And it is rare attained, and even so
E’en in the moment we bring it to hand
It something other than perfection grow

Perfection with its “P” in upper case
More accurately so spelled represents
The plan through which in life we work our way
Assigned by beneficent Providence

Our growth, our learning and our healing for
Upon which we look back in great amaze
To witness the intricate benefits
Given to us while walking in its haze

The first perfection we made mention of
Lasts little past its one moment of birth;
The second we are ne’er deserted by
Nor for a single moment lose its worth

Appreciating in appreciation’s light
Yet not diminishing its absence in
With us from now until the very end
As’t hath been with each since each first begin

The first perfection doth us little good
To hunt for or to purchase or to own
It leaves us like a puff of errant wind
Immeasurably poorer, still alone

The second we need never seek at all
It hath been with us since the very start
We couldn’t lose it if in effort to
Applied we all intelligence and art

A third, there Personal Perfections are
The nature of which vary one to next —
Some entertained by constant music are
Without its stimulus feel lost and vexed

While someone else creative writer be
Requiring silence for his ordered thought —
This third required of us, actually,
By conscientious self for self be sought

One we can never reach; one we cannot
However hard we try manage to lose;
And one which we are asked priority
Accord to each time life asks us to choose

Between this path and that — and now we see
A fourth form of Present Perfection — this
Form like that of the second hidden be
For most of us, but opens into bliss

We need look neither forward into time
Nor back upon our lives this one to see
No effort or contortion bring it will
There no decisions need made for it be

So this perfection we experience
We need not any faculty to tax
Nor struggling nor striving will it win
Required for it we are but to — relax

Open our eyes, open our minds and souls
The absolute exquisite beauty to
In any moment of our every day
In gratitude Present Perfection view



Ana Daksina View All →

A poet is the strangest sort of soul
You in this life may e'er expect to meet
More broken even while more truly whole,
Innocently intending well, more sweet

Than any but a five year old should be
Unfit to meet a callused world's demand
Or to behave aught expediently
All grace in flight; an albatross on land

Do not the all too common error make
Do not fall into the too easy trap
Avoid the fatal egoic mistake
Imagining that poet be a sap

Powerful spirits classic and antique
Give voice when poets ope their mouths to speak

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