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When hearts collide and eyelids rise up,
the weather enters through doors with welcome mats.
Winter bares the chill that raises hairs,
and summer holds the fire that blazes one’s heart.
Blooming buds bring breath anew to lips.
The recess of one’s visitor sings farewell,
and calls up the new colors of dawn.
Whisping, wooshing, and circling are the winds
calling out a familiar hello.
Beckoning are the Heaven’s above to one,
And one is receptive to it’s cry.
The Spirit here flourishes in sound daylight.
Progression slows the steps as I try to run through the mud.
Time, eternally circling the drain in which slowly leaks droplets of your life.
Everything is in slow motion,
like a picture captured in a slow shutter lens, and yet,
time is the constant struggle between happiness and I.
There is all the time in the world.
All the world will only see so much of you.
If all answers were questions, curiosity would be the aroma filling your nostrils in the morning.
Waiting.
There is always a period of waiting.
For more time? For time to come?
Ants scurry around below my feet
working their hardest seconds at a time
to do what is necessary for their life.
No questions.
Just actions.
They scurry, scurry, scurry and then
they get stepped on.
No concept of time.
No concept of when or why,
just action to guide their necessity for life.
I do not want to be an ant.
I do appreciate the dedication of one life
to action and purpose
without worry or doubt.
We are constantly in motion,
yet turning motion into action takes a step to be learned.
Creatures of curiosity are the smiles that fill the room
in which dancers train.
Learned steps,
intertwining souls and breathes.
Often these creatures get lost or lose their rhythm, becoming anger and fear conceptualized in the majority of our ants.
Busy, busy, busy and unable to see
the time that constantly passes by.
The time that is dead to them.
The curiosity collapses,
creating such beauty and such tears,
encircling back into the cycle of time and curiosity once again.
All in this enclosed box of time.
All the time in the world.
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