David Taylor


Unmoving held so softly
at a point of balance
unmoving everywhere
that point everywhere;
even the birds have stopped flying,
stopped singing;

silence pervades the trees
and reaches out to infinity,
all of a gossamer appearance
floating on mindfulness,
mindfulness filled with stillness
stillness reflecting, being;

so magical, it is,
when the air falls still
merges into space
and in between melts
into unity.

Poem Submitted: Thursday, November 6, 2008

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