Earth's Beauty so balanced
Yet the Clock is so close to marking the final moment.
Time is shattered in a nano by a sound, a glance or mis-step;
Whether the strike of the hour depicts real Time passing
Or simply serves to reveal another buoy in the bay?
These strikes, these hours, these buoys, these bays
Mark an emerging quality of simplicity;
Breath invited inward no matter what mark of Time
And visions of swirling Beings All
Colors swimming up toward eternity where
Imbalance robs no One
And our eyes see the same,
One buoy at a time.
Albany, New York
26 August 2008