swanning down soft focus lantern-lit streets --
full of sleep -- under night's blanket thrown,
god's finger raised to his lips in a hushing pose,
staggering silence sat upon its golden throne,
ambled aimlessly around now for one too many summers,
yet still; never lingered quite long enough to simmer,
fawned in the shimmering headlights of the oncoming,
overawed in the presence of life's ongoing glimmer,
in this moment:
the ancient holy dance of playful particle vibration resonates…
recalling; in this moment:
the dust which we will all return to; flickers in reflection at the eyes of recognition,
synchronicity is speaking… insistently and softly.
you don't have to answer -- dear witness: only listen.