Perfection was never meant to be defined in a moment,
A moment in time against human expectations,
For as from time in time to time
Everything that never was now is, and some still to be,
Even trinity took six counts of creation
before they manifested their own image,
Dust blown and dust inhaled,
For man was their glorified mark of actualization.
The best of creations saved for last as though
It was springing, budding, blooming,
Fearfully and wonderfully made man came to be from the dust
A beginning in its own unique Genesis,
It was to become a new era, a new consciousness,
And eventually just as they sprung,
So was another beginning.
A possibility of turning zombie at any given moment
A realization that life was for living,
To be reborn.
By Michelle Thanya