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.