Too Far From Perfect

Seeing the spring flowers with colors so intense and alive, makes me praise their Creator even more; amazed and breathless, unable to find any imperfection in all that lies under the infinite sky! By the winding path, under a fluttering willow tree, I sit down and begin my contemplation... by admiring a beauty never seen, hidden from me, who is too far from perfect! If roses are prettier than teasels, they, too, are plants that serve a true purpose; and if the witch-hazels have only yellow flowers, are they less valuable or useful than the dandelions with notched leaves? Wouldn't the jacarandas provide them shade in those steaming afternoons, or shelter them when an unexpected storm arrives? Nothing is imperfect and useless, if it was created by His divine hand; the quatrefoils are as much admirable as the sleek nodes found elsewhere! Climbing the rough cliffs of mountains, brings me a step closer to serenity... where pine groves culminate in mystery, as the purest spring refreshes me: whenever the scorching sun dehydrates my rough lips; and from an elevation that opens up to an entire valley, I'm the smallest being with a probable fragility, and being too far from perfect: I become aware of every defect... to realize that nobody has an invincible aspect! If everything that's inexplicable and beautiful excites me...to make me immensely grateful; why wouldn't I be astonished and be elevated by sublime joy anytime I witness the splendor of each sunrise: when the eagles and seagulls flap their wings a thousands times... to savor a freedom that allows them to emit a joyful cry? And being so mortal and too far from perfect... it doesn't mean I must live within a limit! Copyright 2008 by Andrew Crisci