Dilating Time

For Cristina

Like the pupil of an eye,

elongated, dilating

just in the second of the solstice.

And in that perfect

clearing, all the locks unlatch,

doors open, gates melt.

We approach what had seemed

an impossible sliver, an idea, really,

an almond or a teardrop,

enlarging peripherally

to an opening

any old fool could slip through


leaf on the wind,

feather on a breeze,

carried like the lightest sailing craft

streaming through the liquid 

love light.  


the only task now:

relax into the support

of the universe.  

All of the old entanglements tease up,

one by one.  Watch

unravelling, all the knots

disentangling in the perfect

allowance of what is.


Resistance feeds friction

and disease and I’ve loved

the polished white-

wash of narrative.  Literature

constructs word-boats floating

on the stream being revealed,

festive, bedecked in lights

to shine

back through the black waters.

Poem-breadcrumbs cast

on a forest trail:

follow quickly before

they are consumed by hungry

searchers far too desperate

to look

up. It will appear

like an almond,

a teardrop, something small

and irrelevant, 

hidden power 

only accessible on the darkest night

with the clearest intent

to serve.

Give up the struggle.


This is clear sailing.

This is allowing.

The universe supports you

completely.  You don’t have to believe.

You might take a few moments

to close your eyes,

listen with heart-ears,

mind your gut.

But mostly, relax.

Relax into the support.

It’s here for you,

for us,

as we blossom into our glory.

Inspired by:  Compose, White, Literature, Festive, Bedeck