Driving

The swing of the car round the corner into Sutton Junction

Woman walking with dog on slush

Was suddenly unbelievably perfect

Telephone pole, perfect

Railroad crossing sign, also perfect.

 

Deeply moved, I swung my

Gaze upward to that line of winter-black arrowhead spruce trees north of the railroad line

Also radiating waves of perfection,

Like Angel song, like

Divine intervention.

 

I gasped.

 

Alone there in the car, driving still, shifting into fifth,

I had to breathe slowly, deeply to calm myself, to

Stop the tears of deepest held joy

Everything was perfect. Everything. I looked at

The bumper of the car ahead of me… That too

Radiated the divine perfection of the heavens in all of their grandeur.

 

These words are not enough to convey

But they, like the road and the sky and the woman with her dog,

Although limited

Are perfect.

 

And this is coming from the heart. This is not

Mind speaking to you.

This was all in the heart and is still.

It becomes all that I am -the

 

Perception of perfection in all that is.