Perfect Days
Perfect Days
How unplanned the days
Of Becoming, opening hearts
no matter the weather, terrain
Chance turns around bend
Magnetic pauses to linger
Moments more, only to greet
A stranger bearing gifts
They carry, unburdened
How unplanned the days
Of joy, opening hearts
No matter the circumstance, mood
Surprise synchronicities
Patterns of Delight, slicing
Light through the dreary,
unexpectedly revealing
The persistence of wonder
Even in the weary, the worry
How unplanned the days
Of perfect, opening hearts
No matter how much we plan
otherwise to arrive at perfect
Only to have all that we organized
Swept clean, shattered,
Cancelled by that phone call,
That test result, that missed step
that unforeseen absurdity,
Oh how unplanned the days
of miracles, surrendering hearts
As if we could ever plan
The rainbows in our storm
The remission in our suffering
The invisible hand sweeping through
Releasing the constriction of heart
May our days always allow
for the unplanning of perfect
Like cupped open palms—
catching the sky
