Standing in that cusp
where twilight meets the dark,
the thinnest veil of mist
hangs in dampened silence
under autumn trees.
All movement ceases now,
no creatures of the night
are stirring from their rest.
No sounds to break this spell
that sits between two worlds.
Just a tired leaf
tumbling stiffly,
in surrender to the earth.
And below, the river Nervia
sends white noise
like a distant songline
destined for the sea.
I barely breathe
in honour of this grace,
watching troubled thoughts
dissolve to create space
for inner resonance
with all around..
As dusk’s light fades
my inner light shines forth
its sacred source;
subtle, like the mist
in silent presence;
allows me mystic time,
for soft connection
in the still point purity of peace.
Far off a dog bark
messaging his master
wakes me back to sleep
triggering a question:
how to straddle
what’s out there
with what’s inside
without these prompts of nature,
while thoughts of all
the worldly strife
come pouring in
like urgent liquid
lapping at my feet?
