The moment it is lit,
the perfect flares out
The moment it manifests,
the perfect disappears:
the perfect doesn't stay long
It slips by, moment its knot is tied up
Made centre of attraction,
the perfect shies away
Chalk-snipping dogs the nations become
Hands dipped on and on in to the sea
searching all their days for a single nail.
Hands slotted on and on in to quagmire
searching for some drained-clear mud fish.
But one can't restore a missed mystic stuff
unless you want to live all but a miners' life
You have your perfect, I have mine
why even be at loggerheads with each other
when your perfect contains as many loopholes
as mine does have
Miners' life! ! All the days are not equal. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Very amazing drafting shared on really. Wisely penned and shared.10
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A Colt is oughtn’t work like horse and lad oughtn’t work like a man until they’re fully grown up.