A World Imperfect
No sentence conveys what is really meant
Frozen words speak more or less than intent
And editorial mistakes to which an author is blind
Are all too easy for others to find.
So an artist sees more than a painting shows
The viewer must guess what the first eye knows
Or sometimes because the after-image burns
The artist is blind to what the viewer spurns.
Thus everything we do seems destined wrong
In a world imperfect no perfect song
Yet if fault is deviance from what is planned
No fault flows from the Creator's hand.
Our ideals and outcomes may not squarely sit
But some greater good may come of it.