The Perfection We Seek

There is perfect silence.
The mind wanders,
Looking for a distraction from the storm within.

The clock ticks away.
The faint sound of one's breath,
Even silence isn't perfect.

A revving engine far away
Only barely discernible,
Drawing the gaze to the window

Warm sunlight washes the face.
The leaves are rustling
Silently.
There is a breeze outside,
And the sun.

The eyes blink and turn away.
And just like always
Everything is still.