Thursday, December 19, 2019

Time to make time

Soon, it will be Winter Solstice.  That time to make time to center inward.  Then, time to move outward.  Much like a spoon does for soup.  A pen to poem.  Nothing happens before a still moment.  Perhaps, beauty.  Perhaps, grace.  Yes, to both.

1 comment:

  1. I could sit before it sails and on the ocean mooring count the boats moving through the depths, and soaring in my silly heart, a feeling I should be going--who wanders on the horizon anymore, anyway?