Gathering peace of a sleeping house around me, I sit in the center of the circle of being. No where to go, nothing to do, all day to do it.  Emptying the moment out and watching it flow through me like a gurgling brook discovered in a moss-covered forest floor.

Light warms my shoulders and loosens the cement wall that pretends to shield me from burdens.  A breeze caresses with the pine fragrance of ancient would and I treasure the gift to hear the birds that call forth the dawn.

There is no other place than here; no other time than now.  I seize it, laugh and laugh and laugh watching the water of time seep through my fingers, as if any grasping in the middle of an ocean can catch this exquisite moment.