Unaccustomed

As I take my place,

the sun has brightened,

and pours its warmth over me.

The trees are still.

With the bright sharp open space of this present,

all that has been is out of date,

and what will need doing is not yet.

Body at ease,

breath is slow and steady,

and this moment’s opportunity is much bigger

than all else.

It fulfills its promise,

then does so again,

and on.

But it just can’t fit

into these worn, stumbling words,

meant for other things,

that we are accustomed to.