it's all perfect

the path that winds
through to the sky
come down
to meet this earth,
the curve of the land
that holds both
proud cliffs
and languid waters
in its palm,
the shrill of the koel
piercing through
the dark silence
of a stirring dawn,
the posture of a rose
looking down
like a demure girl
flushed with this world,
the restfulness of a log
putrefied and left
to the ways of the wild,
the soft dimples
on the elbow of a baby
learning to move his hands,
the cry of a woman
outraged by a love
she could not understand
or find,
wrinkled souls
waiting alone
for their final call,
armies that build
and raze walls at will,
like lost children;
it's all perfect.

there's perfection
in every pore
of this most beautiful world,
learning to love herself
over and over again,
with every breath,
inspired by a longing
that can only be worn
imperfectly.