From a Poet

The Ideal Illusion What is concealed when we look towards ideal moments? That which appears to us comes as part of a world that we can only vaguely conceive, but one in which we imagine a whole set of circumstances, accomplishing each task with greater or lesser conviction until we arrive at its culmination where perfection will be grasped. We do not know that if something perfect must exist it is only because imperfection exists; on the other hand, we are certain that the whole series of our sufferings will give way to an everlasting peace.  Just as a door and four walls may lead us to expect shelter, the essence of the ideal leads us into a warm and inviting home.  Over time, however, the rain will come in and despair will fill our hearts.  We have journeyed out into an unknown region expecting room and board, but all we get is homelessness.  The contrast of our perception with that of our imagination makes us turn upon this outer world with scorn.  Unless we look further, it wi