The sun is in my eyes
casting its westward shadows.
The stillness, like emptiness, can
can suddenly come alive.
Or tease
in that way of what has been
to be again.
Which, of course, all things
do but do so differently over time.
I am a simple man,
believe in simple verities,
knowing things are never as they
have been though always among
us -- like love:
that apodictic reality
in the plethora of eternity holding
what is constantly found
and lost and stories told about,
the ambrosia of the Divine
and the Human
forever, forever
never leaving things as they are.
-Byron Hoot
