How about, just for now,
this one small moment,
nothing but this:
As far as I can see,
the world as a history of origins,
life coming into being,
and I dissolve right into
a time that predates me,
and the greens are readying
for the birds that will land for rest,
the sweet supple leaves plump and open,
and the sky, our shelter and window,
has not yet had to bear witness to the atrocities,
the trees are not yet scorched or felled.
But I do not have to travel in time
or let my imagination take over.
I can be braver.
I can stay.
I can let what is, is.
And I can look at my fear
until it turns into love.
Imagine if life were just a little longer,
so that we could paint more of our experiences
onto the unfolding landscape perpetually receding
deeper and deeper into our expansive distance
(before we can grab it, never to let go).
Imagine if life were just a little shorter,
so that we could rest those worries on holy ground,
about how to prepare for all that inevitable time,
the interminable stretch of years to be filled
(that we still fear, if we are honest, losing).
Imagine if just like that, the perspective shifts,
and life were exactly what it was, and we as we are,
and notions of time faded into the beautiful ether
as we found ourselves reaching no further than here
(Imagine the happiness of living embodied and true).