Desires

It only takes a breath
or even less
for everything to go
from perfect
to
broken.
There settles
dwells
grows
the shadow
of
doubt,
the river
of
doubt,
that claims
“Nothing
was ever perfect,
nor will it ever be.
You fooled yourself
and saw
what you wanted
to see.”
And this river
does happiness
carry
away and drowns hope
behind a wall
of misery.
There is no grand defense
nor might wall to raise,
no mustered armies
nor cannon fusillade
that can stop this torrent
yet
man can still live.
For against a great light
the shadow
dies
and the river is tamed
by the source of
waters.
This perfect thing may
fade
because it is
not
perfect but a step,
a halting movement
toward the unblemished
we cannot see.
Exhale
and another piece
moves
forward.

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