We define it like clay,
changing from day to day.
Never meaning what we want,
simply filling a need for the now.
Maybe it is after a spring shower,
or refusing to cower.
Standing firm above trouble,
holding on so we don't tumble.
Maybe it is a fresh aroma hanging in the breeze,
or the ability to live in ease.
Carefree life without a worry,
a fairytale-like story.
Maybe it is following all the laws,
or living without flaws.
If perfection would not be so difficult,
high on clouds do the angels float.
No! May it be washed white as snow,
Yes! or letting forgiveness grow.
Blemishes, blood, our wrongs covered,
flowing grace, which will always be offered.
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