Flicker

Dandelion seeds blew in the wind,
off the stalk, right in the gust.
They flew up and out, down and in,
around sideways, and I wondered
about the speed at which it all happened.
“The moment was right,” I guess.

If we only knew the necessity of patience,
patience as an activity, one that calls on us.
Poise is an activity, one of steadiness.
Stable in the eye, one lets go of all
except to see from another place.

Opening to life’s unfolding, I sit.
Sun’s rays call to vision, a light
flickers in the celestial I.
Trailing memories pray for their conjunction
to melt into existence, the mind’s
expectation to attain unity –
a delusion.