I have always said, beauty is in the imperfections,
a crooked tooth on a lopsided grin
a chipped nail on a soft hand
a nervous habit and a chewed paperclip mangled into a lovingly cast object of art.
Beauty is in a fallen leaf
a clouded sky
and a flower strongly holding on, head lifted proudly with petals broken wing dancing lightly in a breeze.
Beauty is a dust covered window of dappled sunlight and a loud snore by a tiny child.
Beauty is in the imperfections that dance across the earth’s objects and nature’s treats and our cares.
I was born a perfectly imperfect human
and that makes
me
and you
and everyone
beautifully beautiful.
and so i come to the blank page
letting go of perfection
finding beauty in the stilted flow of words
cast in the light of the morning sun trickling across the waves of the wind’s fierce blow.
and i wait for them to drop on the page
and the sun to set deep into the glow of night
so i can wake up found, wake up lost. wake up to beauty.
again and again.