Sometimes, in the darkest of times, slivers of light, moments of grace, of understanding, of insight would penetrate the darkness and the despair and give me hope and reason to continue. These moments were precious. They inspired me to keep going.
This poem is about one such moment. It’s called Perfect.

On a beach in Lanzarote

With my back to the wall

The sea is placid

Waves break gently

The sun is going down

And I’m wondering how I will survive

This terrible dislocation

Being here

While finding it unbearable

I've struggled all day

To find any of the normal gears

For living.

I've watched people

Imagined their pleasure

In simple things

An ice cream, a swim,

A ball thrown across the beach,

A smile

But I just can't line it up

I'm the piece that doesn't fit

The actor who can't find his play

The alien who’s cover

Is about to be blown

The pressure of dislocation

Is crushing me

Then a woman and child

Move across my field of vision

The little girl is smiling

Her hand in her mother's

And I suddenly know with certainty

That everything is happening exactly as it should

That there is perfection in every moment

Even the terrible ones

And I'm in alignment

No longer an outsider

In that moment I'm in the ecstasy

Of knowing that I am part of it

That I too belong

That I'm in the right place

That it holds together, makes sense

The moment passes

I knew it would

The monsters return

But their stories of pain, terror, despair,

Must now allow

That hope is possible.

That somehow

Life is perfect just as it is