Outside Time

Haze skirts the hills. The day will break hot. Now though, I step Into a space where Manufactured time does Not exist. As I slip through the threshold, The mundane world vanishes like A rejected blanket on a Warm summer’s night. Here I stand isolated and Insulated but deeply connected. A crow’s morning call, Caw, caw, Penetrates pleasantly puncturing The shelter. Sitting on my garden stool Surrounded by fundamental Life, Not primordial but, A cooperation between human and plant, A natural hybrid. In here, even for the briefest Moment, hope renews like A young shoot recently escaped From a seed, reaching for air. The connection most basic, Element for element, results In a fair exchange between plant and I.