I walked and wandered,
we talked, I sang,
but also had to sit awhile
for what seemed like an age.
You’d had a surfeit at the bar
you had leaked a bit
from both ends…
and seemed uncomfortable,
unhappy, not surprisingly.

This meant I had to change
your clothes completely!
I struggled for a while,
wishing this messy,
ear-rending moment away
but then…
amidst your own discomfort,
over which you sadly held
little or no control,
I saw a light, it wasn’t bright,
but bright enough;
slow burning, illuminating;
an oh so gentle warmth
that melted my impatient heart
and conferred on me
an unexpected gift
that no amount of money
could ever buy.

How is it that
we all spend so much time
chasing dreams;
seeking solutions
to problems we created;
searching for answers
to humanity’s eternal questions?
Craving, wanting, longing,
ever wishing for a bit
of luck, good fortune,
a favourable turn of dice;
that our numbers will come up
in life’s great lottery.

Don’t we all sometimes wish
for an elusive piece
of impossible magic,
the simple thought of which
dopes our senses
stupefies our rational thought;
makes us wish
that each of our Mondays
was a Friday;
dissolving our conscious lives
into hopelessness
and misery?

How then our dark, dark souls
so easily fall prey
to the business solutions
of Beelzebub;
to the chemical dependencies
of a crowded world;
the release afforded by
a liquid paradise;
perversely powdered

And yet…

and yet you,
all ten pounds of you,
after venting your lungs
– designed to strengthen them
against future exertions –
were unexpectedly becalmed.
As if absorbed by my plight,
your eyes lit up
by dark pools of the universe
and sucked me in…
hook, line and sinker.

Why could I not see this before,
this embodiment of all that’s good;
this absolute alcohol,
intoxicating, enthralling
absorbing and healing my soul,
melting my heart
into complete and utter
submission to your will.
And when you started to cry again,
it didn’t hurt so much,
the pain in my head subdued
as my whole system absorbed
this powerful essence
of you.

You then relaxed
and shuddered with a sigh
and I felt your body go
completely limp.
It was as if you
had made up your mind
to place your trust in me.
I felt an awesome responsibility.

Then, at once, I looked at you,
as if transformed;
you had cast your magic spell,
as if you had become the very thing
that, instinctively, I know you are;
know that you, who have
no knowledge,
no biass or understanding,
no prejudice, no judgement,
no hint of avarice or greed,
must be protected
from the repeated corruption
that man bestows upon man;
woman upon woman;
protected at all costs,
at any price…
with my life.

You are the Child-God,
the spiritual repository
of all of mankind’s hopes
and dreams:

the embodiment…

…of perfection

(Read the author’s commentary on this Poem)

© 2011 John Anstie

About PoetJanstie

“Life is short and art long, the crisis fleeting, experience penniless and decision difficult” ~ Hippocrates. As a young man, John was sporting and fit. It was then as much his recreational therapy as a cappella harmony singing, music, walking in the hills and writing is now. Playing Rugby Union for over twenty years, encouraged in the early days by a school that was run on the same lines and ethos as that famous Scottish public school, Gordonstoun, where our own headmaster had been as a senior master. This gave shape and discipline to a sometimes precarious early life. His fitness was enhanced not only by playing rugby, but also by working part time jobs in farming, as a leather factory packer and security guard, but probably not helped, for a short time, selling ice cream! His professional working life was spent as a Metallurgical Engineer, Marketing Manager, Export Sales Manager, Implementation Manager and Managing Director of his own company. Thirty five years spent, apparently in a creative desert, raising a family, pursuing a career and helping to pay the bills, probably enriched his experience, because his renaissance, on retirement, realised a hidden creative talent as a writer of prose and poetry. He also enjoys music, with a piano and a fifty-two year old Yamaha FG140 acoustic guitar. He sings bass in three a cappella harmony groups: as a founding member of a mixed voice chamber choir, Fox Valley Voices and barbershop quartets. He is also a member of one of the top barbershop choruses in the UK, Hallmark of Harmony (stage name of the Sheffield Barbershop Harmony Club), who, for the eighth time in 41 years, became UK Champions in 2019. He is also a would be (once upon a time or 'has been') photographer with drawers full of his own history, and an occasional, but lapsed 'film' maker. In his other life, he doubles as a Husband, Father, Grandfather, Brother, Uncle, Cousin, Friend and Family man. What he writes is sometimes autobiographical, often political, sometimes dark and frequently pins his colours to the mast of climate change and how a few humans are trashing the Earth. In 2013, he published an anthology of the poetry (including his own) of an international group of poets, who met on Twitter in 2011. He produced, edited and steered the product of this work, "Petrichor Rising", to publication by Aquillrelle. His sort of strap-line reads: “ iWrite iSing iDance iChi iVolunteer ”
This entry was posted in children, emotion, family, Hope, Love, poem, poetry, Religious. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Perfection

  1. Poetjanstie says:

    Lou, belated thanks for your comment. This poem and subsequent blog post over on my blogger site were rather unexpected and unplanned. It has been quite an emotional mini-journey.


  2. Beautifully profound, John. I felt moved as if I was looking in on an intimate moment. Children are a joy & gift…and yes, perfection!


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