Joan Woolard, a dear friend and fellow sojourner in the Richard Moss mentor program, wrote this poem during a day of silence at the recent gathering of our group. It touched something in me, as I suspect it may in you.
Breeze ever so gently beckoning to enter the pregnant pause
Take rest in the now; the land that time forgot
You know the place
It can be found between here and there
But don't look too hard or you'll miss it
Soften your gaze, loosen your grip and settle in
Let you mind wander and shift the focus of your awareness
Slip into the only place where you will find yourself, the now.
Nowhere to go
Nothing to do, fix or change
Just unending being with what is
Birds sing a call to action
Gather yourself and take flight on the wings of the now.