Imperfect Life

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Imperfect Life

The tides of time have always vouched,
For perfections that are fairly couched.
From edgy rocks that rivers trimmed and transformed,
Into solid pebbles with curves smooth round.
The pots without cracks,
Lives rolling on perfect tracks.
The sunrise, the sunset
Like clockwork present,
Not a day missed nor a night lost.
The universe in perfect a sync,
Celestial bodies on set orbits blink.

But even on a perfect weather day
Sky can turn blue or gray,
The day from sad to gay,
And universe shed asteroids away,
Life may seem not as perfect say.

The tides of time I feel have changed,
And it is time to embrace
The scarred, broken, blemished or bent
With equal aplomb and grace.
For times ahead herald a trace,
Of uniqueness and of new ways !

The broken flute exclusively plays,
A tune not heard in many ways.
That cracked pot could be used,
Hung up high to water like dew.
The lush green colour of plants so real,
But the leaves red or brown too look dear.
The oyster pearls imperfect in shape,
Are rare, exclusive, classy - no ape !
The sea shells all of similar curves,
Are left behind by a child on shores  !
The sun when it normally shines,
Does not attract humankind.
The moment it gets painted orange red,
Picturesque the imperfection gets.
The rare birds are as novelty seen,
The albino lion is a pride‘s queen.
The shape of the earth not a perfect sphere,
Universe embraces unique and queer.

The tides of time have rightly changed,
Embrace the strange
Give freedom of ways.
Let the mind wander free,
Giving flight to expressions individually
For what are imperfections but perspectives unique!

Dr. Guncha Gupta
10/6/19

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