How now in the lostness of time
are not moments found to collect
before they are not and will not
be again?
How the now invisible lingers
like a presence even as we grasp at
what cannot be held beyond
a moment's existence.
The stability of matter not able
to eclipse the fluidity of feelings,
acts that to the heart and soul
last forever,
our stories unfolding act
by act, longing by longing,
dream by dream into the only
reality there is -- that one flowing
through all of us, memories echoing
the only divine commandment
we need to understand:
"I am that I am."
What else but through
love can this be followed?
And what need of anything more?
-Byron Hoot
No comments:
Post a Comment