There is no substitute for lifelong longing.
One may be happy, but there's always more.
Now might be perfection, but one's yearning
Is like a wave that seeks the distant shore;
And when it gets there, sweeps across the sand
In ecstasy, relieved of want, at peace;
Then sweeps back again, away from land,
Within a rapture that will never cease.
What perfect love, that cannot reach perfection,
But like the universe, must ever dance,
Singing with the sheer joy of affection,
Savoring the mysteries of chance.
There is a satisfaction in desire
Unsatisfied, that sets the soul on fire.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon