It is a rare wonder to dally in the field of potential
Where possibilities stroll out arrayed in the surreal
In the shade is the tender quiet of gentlest weeping willows
Drawing fluid motion to the strands of bold inclusive stems soon unfurled to embrace other
Encasing but a witness to human affairs this silence utters not a sound
Merely breathing in and out the inexhaustible aligning many heart schemes into that which is loves progressive
As though to embrace the ground the boulder heavies itself to soil leaving no chasm between in which to erode trust
The winds stir the mix of steadfast bonds with elements of risk new in form
While water ions lap at the edge of sandy loom eroding outworn vessels that separate the inseparable
Under the rippling surface minute connections move in graceful rhythm to songs they alone know joining in union then turning aside altered
Of which task the moon rises over the field allured by the whispers of linking dreams that flow to each other unseen
Silken night encamps the contented beingness that never ends in quiet lulls broken in segments
Come morning, sunrise gestation takes heart to begin the true work of building that which emerges from the womb of potential and there is no hurry

Graceladymn