Meanderings

One

 

To the next

To the next

To the next.

 

 

Time cascades,

 

An endless waterfall of moments

Poured out.

 

An offering of eternity

poured out on me,

from me.

 

I ride through the ticks

Of creation,

 

Sliding through the tocks

of existence

 

for an endless single moment,

The eternal audience,

The singular frozen moment of the dance.

 

 

Time is a word.

Each moment is a word.

A word is a boundaried crystallization of the whole of a thing.

 

 

I can’t see the river.

 

I can only see that part of the river that sweeps me on.

 

On to the next.

On to the next.

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3 thoughts on “Meanderings

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