ripples in the dream waters

in the time of in-between,

in those suspended moments within the now and then,

in the shaded holy

where the tips of  weeping willows kneel to  sip

from the slowing of the stream,

there is a place, a place in the flow of life,

a place where souls and angels come to play,

in the lazy, lazy of the summer day,

where the heated air

and the cooling water

come together in misty dreams.

here, I lose myself

in the what might be,

quietly,

thoughtfully,

soulfully,

and then a dragonfly hovers,

and the still, still air is moved,

a ripple comes to life and passes through the waters,

these dream-waters,

endlessly,

momentarily,

and I was there.

 

 

 

 

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed