Time and the middle way

Time exists between longing and getting -

Waiting, waiting, waiting, restless waiting. 

An opiate haze of euphoric recall

of an imagined past or a deserved future. 

Time, with its heavy boot, or elfin scurry, scrambles onward.

Even so we carry them with us,

these sacred longings.

The longing universe expands, a lover reaching for the beloved.

We bend toward the light and open to catch the rain.

But some lilies die of thrust in the field you know.

You can’t make up your losses.  

At the edge, drawn to a free fall into despair,

and instead of, I don’t need you anyway --

De gratia - By the grace of god -  I see that I am pinned to the cross.

Ekagrata the point where shakti dances shiva into consciousness  

– that’s where it’s all happening. 

The hungry ghosts abate their rave at the buffet. The mad hatter stills his swinging watch, and

I can open my heart to longing without waiting. 

For a New York minute –