Ironic
it seems to me
that the best times
for stillness
are dawn and dusk:
the cusp times
the briefest moments
a blooming or a fading that
catches your breath
and holds it
in grace
And I like to think
that I would be a better person
if I could live always
in that grace
but the suspense of time
isn’t meant to last,
like the lick of a melting
ice cream cone
that you’ve been asked to hold
though it isn’t meant
for you
But since
the noonday is
a mess of ice cream
that’s fallen on the hot sidewalk
and midnight is
an elusive, teasing dream
of ice cream that is yours alone to savor,
in comparison a moment’s taste
is pure beauty
at dawn
and again at dusk
So with a sigh I pray to God
for the grace
for the resignation
for the peace
to delight fully in the briefest
of moments
for the gratitude to accept this
gift of stillness
whether at dusk or at dawn
for the surrender to release my demands
that one moment’s goodness
satisfy a lifetime
There is only this breath, only this stillness
and look — now it is gone.