waves and waves and waves and waves and waves and waves and waves and waves and waves….
lazy lips and I have never had more to say. sleepy eyes and I have never seen more. clicking, ticking, clock – the minutes run into hours flowing into days pouring full into the open mouth of months like a river delta releasing all that pressure from the spring runoff. it is like that day you fell in the river. we were dancing across little rocks at the headwaters of theMississippi. Jumping from one smooth gray surface to the next. You decided to cross in the water and were picked up by the steady current. We laughed and helped you up, soaking wet shorts – very dark blue.
the minutes flow faster as they move ahead in time, picking up speed, gathering momentum, pulling at my legs, uprooting old memories. the current quickens as minutes drop down into faster moving streams, rivers of weeks swirling by, the rushing river, time, washing over and carrying us on; on out to the great ocean of existence. The tide of eternity rolling ever out and away from our well-known stream beds, from our pebbled bottoms, and from our quiet inlets.
there, at home, where minutes move slowly and are drawn, there in our quiet inlet lives we are young and steady. Focused on the shapes around us, a blade of grass growing along the edges, concentrating on the seedlings dropped by trees. Watching cottonwood tufts like goose feathers float atop the water. The more attentive our observations, the longer the present moment. Minutes flex and become stretchy – our eyes staring down into pools, eyelashes brushing the wet, we see the present and remain for as long as our hearts will let us believe we are young.