Ode To Now
A crescent moon, sharp enough to prick one’s finger on
A Sun that could sear one’s eyes
Clouds buoyant enough to float away upon
Through endless cerulean skies
Soft shoulder to rest one’s head on
Soft breath upon one’s cheek
Amazing Grace sung by a brace of Angels
What more could a mortal seek
A dragonfly alit upon one’s finger
Tresses tossed by capricious breeze
Eyes tight closed in profound repose
This is indeed Heaven…at one’s knees
Best seize the moment, hold tight the day
Hear the Cosmic song
Heed close the sound that’s all around
Far too soon
…twill all be gone…
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