Perfection

John Herlihy

The world has never come to fully wield,

The last stage of perfection in full growth.

Ever polishing our souls as a shining shield,

Failing to achieve true perfection ever loath.

We are born as pure infants in perfection,

Soon only a desire for perfection remaining.

We make a life journey toward perfection,

Ever striving, ever reaching, never attaining.

Imperfection stone-heavy and feels like night,

Perfection as feather-light and feels like fire,

A crack in a closed door that reveals the light.

Enflaming imperfection with the fuel of desire.

Imperfect, we are yet surrounded by perfection,

The bud in the blossom, the perfume of the rose.

While some of our flaws not visible to detection,

Eyes see only the visible, smells invade the nose.

Perfection periodically returns our minds to haunt,

The perfection of a diamond offers light as appeal.

All imperfections stacked up in our minds to taunt,

The perfection of the circle turns as celestial wheel.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Sunday 23 March 2025