No longer
can I walk the
miles and miles
in search of
It
How many
How much
was over looked
passed by
picked up
Only
to be tossed
aside
again
Waiting
Watching
Hoping
for
Perfection
Now
not quite
out The Other Side
of this particular storm
but
Nearly
Almost
Close
Enough
to
smell dawn on the wind
I am Content
Having come so far
Having driven so hard
Having chosen
Having been
chosen
Having been
Not
chosen
I am Content
No
I am
Grateful
Grateful
Great
Full
For what
lies
at my feet
up a few steps
from where I have
landed
Sherds and shards and pieces
Beautiful broken
remnants
of what was once
Perfection
Or was it
ever
Is it not
now
a perfect kind of
Broken
that I am living
Healing
Mending
a perfect kind of
Broken
that will
leave
silver skirted scars
to
creep
across the surface
of what I once called
Life
Clouds
gulf-coloured grey and
gorgeous
cover the sun and
I realize
I realize
I
See
the Beauty of the storm
The strength of being
stretched beyond breaking
the gut-dropping
wonder
of leaping
of rising
then
falling
to
ride
to
float
just
Under
the surface
Only there
Only here
gasping and blind
shore still hidden
destination unknown
Only here lies
true
Perfection
c.sdmrogers 4 june 2017
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