Perfect Picture

Perfect Picture

by M.J. Harris

What painteth this picture,

the hand, the eye, the heart?

Or all of these things by the whole man?

But did this scene not exist

and wasn't it already the perfect picture?

Then why do we try to hold on fast,

to a fleeting moment in time,

that can be at best a poor excuse

for the moment itself?

Should the eye mislead the heart,

thy hand will surely follow

and the whole man did miss

this perfect picture.