The heat of a week breaks in a rumble and a flash and I just sit for a long time on the front-porch swing, watching it come from the west, a grey shade pulled low, listen to the earth drink it in, all this cool relief.
I fall asleep to rain. I wake to rain. It sings on the roof, the sky come down in slow time.
The rain falls and I remember it again how to slow down time, time that relentless river that rages on, respecter of no one.
Enter time’s swift current.
Enter into the current moment with the weight of all my attention and slow the torrent with the weight of me all here.
I can slow the torrent by being all here.
Weigh this moment in time down with full attention and the whole of time’s river slows… slows… slows.
It’s falling off the eave like fringed veil, drop after streaming drop.
Leaning up against the open door frame, I have time to witness, just listen.
Moments like these wash the world afresh.
The morning smells so alive.
… fresh wind shakes
Them; birds build — but not I build; no, but strain,Time’s eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes.
Mine, O thou Lord of life, send my roots rain.
Photos: slow time here…
Share your thoughts? If you would like Holy Experience posts quietly tucked into your reader or emailed to your inbox for free…
