Utmost
Modern poetry modern verse contemporary poetry contemporary verse modern poem contemporary poem
Perfections are perfection but just one
Is perfect. This is it. Yes, even he
Is stunned to musing by the thought that none,
No other single truth, could ever be
As utter in its form. He meditates
More deeply than the Buddha on the flower
And realizes that the highest gates
Of heaven have been opened and the power
Of God himself is focused on this shape.
The lovely head is pondering a truth.
That truth has all to do with nose and nape,
With curly hair, strong chin, and manly youth.
..In fact he is not perfect. He’s cracked stone.
….Yet he is close enough to make Christ moan.