This is the house of Love, which has no bound nor end.

Leaving Time

I learnt from a leaf the lesson
of detachment, as it lived through
letting go
and gave a whole dissertation
in its dance downwards,
wayward in the wind,
waltzing tales to pay tribute
to how this moment was written
before time and the story
which started it.

How this moment only happened
when it chose to be ready
and could absorb no more light,
had laughed its fill
at the strangeness of life
and surrendered to the space beneath
what it helped grow,
headed to the ground again
and all the grace compact
in our compost covenant.

Traces

Dancing in

Imaginary

Time