Dear Mover of Stillness:
The rush of time
Makes moments like leaves --
Unfurling slowly, they are suddenly everywhere,
Then, even more suddenly,
Gone.
i fall helplessly behind:
Time has no particles,
Only waves;
No moments,
Only a stream.
Make me like the rock in the stream --
Let me bend the tide to my ceaseless will,
Until i am no more.
Or, perhaps,
Make me like the stream --
Transparent,
Still,
Present;
And yet, for all this,
i know
That You have made me
Both stream and rock,
And in time i will embrace
The flow of Presence
Over the stillness at my center.
Let that time be
Now.
-- Mr. Gobley
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