I pause
mid-stride,
my to-do list caught
in your delicate detour,
fly to your whimsical web.
Task and master flounder,
round ruffled maze-twists;
forgetfulness steals soft
in lemon-drop swirls.
Weeds will wait.
Urgency evaporates
amidst petalled purity;
here is Now,
here is life alive,
painted to mimic sunshine,
so I pause.
Precarious precipice, this –
one foot in land of the living,
the other in the grave.
What to do,
when death’s throat opens wide?
Soak in sunshine,
breathe with virgin lungs;
count each second
on your knees.
Stop the clock with grateful gaze,
arrest time’s march
by counting,
counting,
counting moments,
inspecting each,
letting them drop
like seed to soil,
to reap a full harvest
of
Now.
Meanwhile, Melody Muses... 