A seamless series of nows

Slightly darker
On the pale carpet of the bunkhouse
My socks are located
In the dim light
I get dressed

It’s that point
Neither night nor day
Muted even further
By towering trees
In the woods

An eastern horizon
Gives no hint of daybreak
Nor any hint of what the day may hold
What a seamless series of nows
May present

This entry was posted on May 31, 2017 at 5:38 pm and is filed under Faith, Nature, Personal, Poetry, Spirituality, Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

maskednative Says:
June 1, 2017 at 8:47 am | Reply
Finding dark socks on the pale carpet, dressing in a dim light, such peace there is in the mindful moments before daybreak. I like this very much Tom.

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In a dim light…