Perfect sans Perfection

Cumulonimbus of cleansing

now raindrops on my windshield

coming from that aura of darkness

where kept secrets mingle amidst clouded ceilings

now plead the means of clarity and vision

as wipers destroy your story

banish your escaped dreams

exile you to dust and weed encrusted culvert pasts

For you

and your legion of light's refraction

perfection cedes to worldly maintenance

purging Nature's cyclic destiny

removing Man's residual dust motes of consumption

When we have seen you transporting from above

before finding gravity's inevitable embrace

the eyes of our consciousness find questions with answers

but asunder goes vision

as imposed arcs of compulsive change wipe clean

your message from calendars never old

Occasionally

Like your periodic cleansing of Existence

we too address imperfections

with tissue drenched tears

of melancholy 

wishing that

getting this

Perhaps we fail to realize

what the purity within

accepts that even as life's coiled limbs shake 

our inner-child lingers not

on its disruption

its anger

its sorrow

its imperfection

Allowing flaws to be

encourages the in-progress of learning

for just as day's light can only be understood by knowing darkness

so too perfect knows not of itself without imperfection's chorus

Perhaps

Innocence too is but a raindrop becoming something today

it never programmed from yesterday

even as we forever attempt to transcend

the meandering tributaries separated by the mind's windows

certain lessons are destined to never become clear

Perhaps

Our existence knows only what is the moment

before the next

compelled by mach speed to change

forever slandering Nature's droplets perfect

to alter

shun aside

and finally remove with arrogant ignorance

A wise man once said we are eyes of the infinite

designed to never cease squinting

even as our capricious arc of power

attempts to make dominant the vision of conquest

And yes

Perhaps

Windows into life's essence

know clarity is sometimes heard

not seen

felt

but not touched

Such might be perfect sans perfection