Why Does The Dust Fall Evenly Poem by Mark Heathcote

You're looking for perfection
A jungle without vines
A clear road through mountain climbs
You're looking for perfection
No deviations
In two perfect oval eyes

You're looking for perfection,
The sweetest gifts
But no hidden-surprises
You're looking-for-flawlessness
A diamond in the rough without any flaws
No blemishes or inclusions...visible.

But honestly that kind of love
Is neither true nor real
They're just shadowy dreams
Without any physical substance

Why does the dust fall evenly where ever it lands?
Why doesn't it fall in snowdrift around the legs?
Of porcelain Jersey-cow and that milkmaid
On your grandmother's dark-wooden mantelpiece
Is it because everything equally belongs
Good and evil are they, not simply foes-and-lovers
Where else does passion come from?
Heaven or hell, it's a craving we have in each step.

And a trip or a fall
Only makes you stand up sturdier
Stand up tall
For the belittled and the small
Perfection doesn't exist
There's no such thing as flawlessness
And if you want the truth!
That's why I love you.