9.29.15 Elusive as a fast folding dream

     It is as commonplace as dinner, yet elusive as a fast folding dream, the way in which, as life rolls onward and we leave behind our 50's, trundling on into our 60's, the quality of the day, in those hours and minutes, no more resembles what we would have imagined, than a pirate ship, than an aria in Spain under the eaves of some aged home. 

     Instead, the very minutes are something thick with intrigue, with tristesse most certainly and inevitably, and then, no matter the riot or challenge, a mille fois of breath, of being, of saturation of the moment far into ourselves.      I wonder sometimes what the words or dance or song would possibly be, to convey this sense of being here, that is so rich and portends so very much? 

     Somehow, it grows each time I can manage to pause from my dithering with concerns and frustrations , just long enough to let it in. 

     And then I settle into it, sigh with the pleasure of its most elusive warmth and content and reverberation all through the day.