Join the natural world with your quietness and your slowness!
At this blessed pace, the wild raspberry
can see you sitting nearby,
slow as apples ripening.
At this blessed tempo,
birds drift to the tops of trees,
to gaze off miles and miles through the clouds.
In this sacred slowness,
the bees take their time to choose
this blossom, then that,
then that one, and maybe the next.
This is how slowly the clouds creep,
white and bulbous,
all of us present here
in the same breath,
slow, inaudible, eternal.
I breathe, I fill my lungs with air.
This is all we have, all of us,
from now until the end of the world.
Annelinde Metzner
August 6, 2010
At this blessed pace, the wild raspberry
can see you sitting nearby,
slow as apples ripening.
At this blessed tempo,
birds drift to the tops of trees,
to gaze off miles and miles through the clouds.
In this sacred slowness,
the bees take their time to choose
this blossom, then that,
then that one, and maybe the next.
This is how slowly the clouds creep,
white and bulbous,
all of us present here
in the same breath,
slow, inaudible, eternal.
I breathe, I fill my lungs with air.
This is all we have, all of us,
from now until the end of the world.
Annelinde Metzner
August 6, 2010
