little moments of perfect peace as a child
that was back in the days(whew that makes me sound ancient)
when ther was no fear of spending whole days in the wood with the birds and frogs....





Although my days are counted by the surge of waves and tides
Tsunamis, and the depth they hide
(a choice)
…..Some days
The place beside the quiet pool is fine
Cool
Live
Opalescent
Creatures shimmer under all the ripples
Drawn and placed
Upon the surface like a grid of moons
Drawn and quartered
At the intersections
By these
Trails of skippers
(As we called them as a child)
Little Jesus bugs
Walking on water
Mesmerizing
Perfect symmetry
In structure and stance
Small scattered marbles from the hands of children
Sliding over crystal bubbles
Bearing prisms of potential
Programmed to be territorial
Hints of designed agendas
But
Beyond this tepid beauty
Hints of inner fire
A purpose
Space
For tiny evolutions
Far too long for my blind I’s to see
So I surrender
As observer.....
And claim only their beauty
In this moment
Delighting in the minting of the body and the soul