THE GIFT OF STILLNESS
Life is so often ordinary, repetitive,
a low hum of sameness,
a blindness behind the eyes.
It take the crack of a golden sunset,
and the scent of numerous for us to
lift our heads out of the clouds of unknowing to
feel the hairs raise on our limbs.
That is when we can stand still,
if we can still stand, in the presence
of that which is only known to
those who have stopped
long enough to
Carol Carlisle © 9-24-13