Change rides in the air

The air is thick

With the damp of

The storm

Just been or

Still to come.

The mood pregnant

Anticipating,

Brooding on what

Is about to be,

Has been, will

Be forever.

A time when the

Portal opens and

Time is seen as

Impossible, an

Imagination of a

Body that is

Born, ages and

Dies in moments

Ordered into

Cascades called

Time.

The orange glow

On the horizon

A reminder

It is.

This is.

Life is eternal,

The soul is

Eternal.

The orderly cascade

Is not.

Future past and

Present all

At once, each

Available for the

Ready mind.

The mind

Prepared, freed,

Unbounded by the

Fetters of something

It pretends

To understand.

And so the storm

Comes, has been

Is always here.

The changes have

Neither cause nor

Effect but each

Is. Effervescent.

What a wonderful

World to be

Born into.

A wonderful

Mysterious

World.