Perfect

Perfect, strive for perfection, so noble.
So deceptive, so insidious.
Tasks come before me,
I don’t hear the inner perfectionist say it must be perfect.
It’s the knot in my gut, the anxiety that rises up
The depression that looms as I make my attempt
Then the inner critic as I go about my work,
Nothing is good enough,
So often nothing gets done.
So many tasks abandoned,
Ideas and titles of essays unwritten.
Perfection, the great paralyzer,
The constant critic.
Insidious as it shows itself in relationships gone wrong
Over unrealistic expectations.
So difficult to love and be loved
As in love we must love the imperfections in the other
And reveal them in ourselves.
A simple walk down Main Street,
Or in the park or by the river.
Seeking peace and joy.
But all is not perfect and the gloom descends.
Acceptance of this beautiful,
Imperfect world
Seems the only way out.
To use this critical eye
To see the world exactly as it is
And love it anyway.
My God, my Father, my Papa.
He made this world, these people,
who am I say they're not perfect.
How it hurts me to demand I be
Better than my brothers and sisiters.
A demon looks over my shoulder
And whispers in my ear.
Help me brush him off, Lord
Silence him.
I shall not know joy until.