the spell

“Suppose that time is not a quantity but a quality, like the luminescence of the night above the trees just when a rising moon has touched the treeline. Time exists, but it cannot be measured.”
― Alan Lightman, Einstein's Dreams

sometimes time drifts
like waves on sand
folding in
sliding out
fleeting
and
creeping
simultaneous rhythms
of patience
and perseverance
standing in each moment
savoring the depth

it’s been an odd time
pockets where things are zooming
and others where they’re like not so much

an injured pet that’s been a lesson in humility
in offering a wide space for recovery
and a metaphor for a myriad of surrounding situations

it’s just got me thinking about time
how sometimes it’s a lightning flash - gone as it appears
while others hang like the humidity of a midsummer day
and when these intertwine
it’s a dizzying balance

the only way through
for me
is movement

the slow sway in yoga
of grounding rhythms low and deep
filled with the gifts of grace
…
and sound
the dance to a symphony of words and music
that frees and lightens the soul

combined
they are moments filled with illuminating gifts
- of wisdom, of love, of expansive kindness