Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Sometimes Spirit Sees

Sometimes Spirit sees
Where bodies can not go now.
Like a chrysalis, this Now.

In the car, I sit
As a slow drifting begins.
I look up, bemused.

Cars shouldn’t creep about
Like cats, who crouch and listen
To unseen moves, songs.

Feathers can float
In sunlit glory, not me.
I move the gear shift.

Neutral flashes by,
As I step from the car now,
intent on one thing.

Around, is my plan,
But the car rolls quicker now,
So I walk with it.

I lean into it,
And find I am a feather.
Eternity now.

The car is stronger
Physically than my body. 
Only Grace holds me.

Have you ever leaned
Into It?  Leaning is a 
Kind of utmost plea.

I call out, loudly,
As mind races, but Spirit
Slows.  Futures abound.

I look between the now,
listen to the quiet pauses
In between the breath.

Even as I call,
Again and again, I walk
With the drifting car.

I walk with the flow.
I learn my strength or lack of.
The moment is Now.

The flow has its own
Pace, its own way.  I just am,
Eternal moment. 

Spirit has stepped out
To that moment in between,
The one of Grace.   

At last, I am heard.
He races over fast now.
Jumps in.  The car stops. 
Time stops, and we breathe.
Some damage, but we are whole. 
The ethers settle.

“I need help with this
one,” he remembers calling 
to beloved Z.  

In that quiet place
where Spirit lives, we give thanks.
Gratitude and grace.

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