it is here
suspended in time
by the act of creation
that it sometimes happens
in the middle of a willing task
working without care in the green lawn
when the birds, distant sirens, hedge trimmers and barking dogs pile together

a small barely discernible voice whispers
through millions of quivering leaves, wind chimes, piling amorphous clouds,
an insistent light that seeps into our language
a white background holding these symbols
until an utterance appears at last

yes it sometimes happens then
the ineffable arises and expands until
awe stricken gratitude blazes in the heart
something which must be given away
for the fire to fully consume
thus now perhaps a gift to you

and then
the yard work continues
all of us roaming contentedly out here
in the sunlit flowing flowered breezes
breathing deeply of this moment’s grace
as though the most natural thing has occurred
new growth emerging
from long patient cycles
of giving and receiving
a silent serenity
singing riotously around us all

©John Greenleaf-Maple 5/23/17