About Time
where gently huffs the wind
in clicks of seconds undefined,
my entire being becomes aware
how grasping unto this moment,
this flow of Now slips from
time , as sunray beats the light
way down to the ground:
inside this space where quiet trails,
a lake of senses rivers on
fluid in motion, while flowers gaze--
asking for rain-- their cheeks
turned upward to lambent sky and
circles of butterflies buzz guiding
this path...I find myself letting go
without words to mar this scene;
a fluent kind of sacredness which
connects me to presence unadulterated...
and winds sigh, 'pray tell, what time is it?'
my answer, I do not know.
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