Thus came perfection
Simple and pure as the white shelled oval of the egg
Smooth and rainbow painted like a coasting soap bubble
As clean as the snap of a well pinned sheet in the breeze
As honest as Chris's first lyrics from his heart song
and
As exciting and magical as first love
Perfection is too easy she thought
She knew it could not last longer than spring
She held her glance so that it would not flee
And might linger as it burst with more surprises
Those multi-colored petals reaching for freedom
The whoosh and flutter of a quick gray bird's wing
Perfection is too fragile
Like a thinly structured Chihuly garden
Like the final piercing note of the tiny brown wren
Like the backward flight of that first hummingbird
Her breathing was perfection on such a day
As a well-practiced instrument of life
Such a gift was easily accepted
Although rarely deserved
And too soon forgotten
With the push of time
And the demands of other ghosts
smiles....perfection is rare, and when attained certainly fragile....that is a gorgeous pic though....
ReplyDeleteThe photo is fabulous and your poem perfectly transcends my thoughts to spring and new life and gentle breezes.
ReplyDeleteThank you
Hugs
SueAnn
ah - lovely - I think, though, that we deserve the moments of perfection when we forget ourselves enough to recognize them. The shot of that wee bird is perfect!
ReplyDeleteBrian, Sue Ann, and Pauline...this is an homage to a spring afternoon I spent sitting outside. Thanks on the photo...which is really two photos layered together.
ReplyDeleteYour post took me away from the gray day and sent me traveling into warmer, gentler days.
ReplyDeleteYour first line aptly describes your image, I think:-
ReplyDelete"Thus came perfection."
An absolutely beautiful post.
Both poem and photo are perfection. We need to make time for these moments.
ReplyDeleteI love those words
ReplyDeleteso true...
I'd love to sit with you while you think and watch....
ReplyDelete