Photo: Andrew Buchanan on Unsplash
“It is just a crack,” she said,
“A splinter off of perfection.”
‘Twas more than that, she understood,
Knowing what effort it exacted of her
To keep her direction,
To balance scales just so
They did not tip life
And hope
Into utter disconnection.
For the dVerse quadrille challenge: Crack
Photo: Na’ama Yehuda
What had happened to you
In the short life
You knew?
Your wings’ rhythm
Aflutter
To a drum
Gone
Askew?
Your beauty imbued
By what could life
Subdue,
You flit on right
Through,
Gloriously determined,
To be you,
To be you.
For the Sunday Stills challenge: A bug’s life
Photo: Tina Nord on Pexels.com
She held her breath and waited for the instant
In time
Where Earth’s equator passed through
The center of the sun.
Imperfectly balanced
As it was
By arcs and tilt and latitudes,
She cared not about
The argument that it could never be
In ideal form,
Or that the exact timing
Varied
With convictions
And perceptions of the mind.
She paused nonetheless,
Determined
To witness the fleeting equilibrium
Of light and dark,
And the shift of balance
That it could,
perhaps today, allow.
For Sammi’s Weekend Writing Prompt: Equinox in 83 words
Photo: Amitai Asif
They’d split and stacked
A fortress,
Yet left one
Round and fine
Out of line
Blocking sun.
Mayhap to trick evil eyes
Lest perfected design
Impels the next cord
Undone?
Photo: Pinterest
In the messy path of life
Dreams flurry in
Goals exhale partly out,
And in the lovely expectation
Of more order
In a few,
Lives the absolute prediction
That periodic tangle
Will ensue.
For The Daily Post
Photo: Cuba, Inbar Asif
My immediate association to today’s word prompt of “Elastic ” was about the dire need for more flexibility. How important it is we be able to curl our mind around the bend of preconception so we can appreciate beyond “our idea of beautiful” or “our opinion of correctness.” It’s become fashionable to be rigidly unyielding, to confront instead of listen, to seek conformity instead of be accommodating.
As if acceptability lives by a single yardstick and Photoshop.
We cover over imperfections. We discard or deny any marring exists. We seek the shiny new. People get judged more by their circumstance of birth than by how pliable their hearts are or how truly resilient they have proven to be in holding on to kindness even in the face of oh-so-much that wasn’t.
As I wrote this a notification appeared for Steve McCurry’s post about the “Art of Imperfection” and the power of Wabi-Sabi — the Japanese practice of finding harmony and beauty in what is simple, natural, and modest, where transience and imperfection are part of the aesthetic. How perfectly apt.
Here’s to beauty in the marred.
For The Daily Post
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