Paul Willason Poet Free verse

The Moment Between

There was a moment 
when the afternoon seemed to pause
as if it was holding its breath, 
suspended briefly between 
the letting go and the drawing in. 
Thoughts came to a rest
and the wind which had before 
played in the folds of a curtain, 
was suddenly still.

If it had remained like this 
for a while longer, I could have
glimpsed what was hiding there 
in that stillness, heard what was
weaved through the strands 
of silence which had intersected 
my existence, there in that moment,
before time drew its breath again
and I fell back into myself,
back into movement 
and noise. Now, I am 
not even sure if it matters.

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