Only Perfection Will Take Your Soul

I hung the frames in my house at perfect angles, to make their symmetry agree with me
While in the bathroom, my son ripped out the toilet paper spinner
And looked up at me, quite pleased 

It still works, so I left it awkward on the wall
To remind us all
That perfection is not attainable
And not everything is a right angle 

A house, above all, is to be lived in 
It is no museum
And its incompletions can remind us that we are fragile, fickle things
And so is life
As a bird is a fragility on lovely wings
And so are we 

And since putting everything in order is endless 
Life is only, ever, about finding balance, and
Asking how much is enough, since
Between chaos and perfection, only one will take your soul

Remember, my child:
Beauty is found in the strangest places 
Thrives, in fact, in broken spaces
Once we accept how out of control we truly are

In a race in which we all go down to the ground
The goal is to arrive in the dirt undeceived about what you were running towards
For then, with clear eyes, the good, green earth receives you
And you become part of the imperfect spring, buzzing in its completion
In its perfect chaos
And you become a sapling, waiting for the second birth 
And the ordering of all good things