What’s perfect?
A huge perfect bungalow in a city, a perfect job, and a perfect partner with a perfect societal impression.
Is this all that perfect means?

I ask this question every day to myself.
But every time I think about having all these I realize, ain’t I already living a perfect life?
I’m living, breathing alright, ain’t that perfect?
I walk, see colors, I have my people I can talk to, ain’t that perfect?
But then there is a constant something while I just live my life,
Fear of losing out on people, missing out on places, missing out on the fun, just missing out. 
Guess we all fear that, guess we’re all sinking in the same boat with some iceberg ahead. 

But then there’s something that wholeheartedly fills me, and I’d also like to believe it fills most of us,
And that beautiful nature out there fills us enough to overcome that fear.

Enough to tell myself how lucky am I to feel what’s around me. 
Enough to tell myself to make sure I do my best to nature, else, for I might have to be afraid of that constant something.
Enough to tell me about how each of us deviate, 
Enough to tell me it’s alright to deviate, otherwise how else would we know what’s right, and what isn’t.

And then I say it’s good to be lost,
Lost in the place that makes me feel good
Just right to overcome that fear. 
Lost amidst the loose gravel, yellow and red flowers, 
Lost amidst what perfectly fills my soul, lost in Nature.

I deviate here from perfect to fear, fear to what makes me feel good. I deviate because it makes me feel good, makes me feel at peace and that’s perfect for me.