Eternal Present

It was a late summer afternoon. A breeze came up the hill from the sea below.

An old man made his way up the hill. Slowly, to the inner rhythm of his own nature. His grey blue eyes sparkled and a smile creased his face. His cloths were edge worn, yet had the look of long years of care. He loosely grasped a wooden cane with a rainbow of coloured threads woven around the handle. His gait had purpose as he gazed softly at everything he passed.

Pondering, he thought, “I am!, and yet, a meaning maker, after all.”, his eyes glistened. “I am, swimming in a sea of Love, where it is never too late!”, he laughed and chortled in his white beard. A softness in his expression.”Beauty echoes through all things and a communion of the ‘Eternal Present” exists, as if no past ever compelled, nor future beckoned.”

The old man paused, and watched a starling dance in the sky, catching a bug in the breeze.

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