Fusings

 

All of this is given  -
the subtle colors of the grass in mist,
the times of work, and this,
a drift through almost sleep,
where I still hear the music,
but my sense of where I am slips
in place, in time, in physics  -
my planes of presence bend, blend through each other

When I come back, the light is different,
and I feel rested, but still languid,
and richer for these fusings of perception,
they layers they have added to my day.

©Wendy Mulhern
June 17, 2023