Striving

Nothing, it seems, in this material world lives up to expectations.
The search for comfort through physical possessions ends in failure.
The ideal car, once attained, may have the annoying missing feature.
The pristine paintwork will gradually scuff and scratch.
It will never be quite the same after spotting the minor car park bump.
The perfect home will never remain so once lived in.
The rising of the sun each day brings constant joy but is dulled by the journey to work.
There are those for whom sunrise signals another day of suffering.
If we are very fortunate, love may bring us close to a perfect life.
But its flaws are found in the actions of our lover and our self.
The artist paints perfection, but enhances the scene with that for which he yearns.
The author writes perfection, but the expectation of the reader is never fully met.
And what of music? The voice of the angels inhabits both realms.
Disturbance of the air.
Balm for the spirit.
Like the artist and the author, the musician strives.
And, for each, the execution will be flawed.
But once in a while, they transcend our expectations of this material world.