Long thoughts lying peacefully,

fresh questions finding voice.

Old honesty shaking off dust , pieces of a whole which cannot remain dormant.

Here grows an urgency

a chance to halt a wave.

Now , no matter what the cost,

life and love over profit and loss

Traces of something better still linger on

discarded scraps of the past.

Language with depth and promise

supported by firm intentional foundations.

Puddles of poverty turning to lakes,

puddles full of political fakes.

Puddles of reason thrown to the floor,

puddles of profit, more and more.

Puddles of plastic , long after we've gone,

puddles reflecting that we got it wrong.

Sunshine in time to amble,

moonlight enough to dream,

time in a place without reference,

comfort in clarities hand.

One and another together,

sharing the space they create,

each as a part of the other, as love, as luck , as fate.

In time , all comes around,

often obviously and occasionally out of the blue.

This circular process is natural, it is life in action, it is continuity.

Time to find the time, as if time was lost or hiding.

A moment which becomes longer without intention, one of those let it go spaces we never make often enough but deserve much more.

Days without rules becoming nights which find mornings too quickly.

The warp and the weft, interwoven concepts and experience, answers before questions find a mouth to ask them.

Time is moving faster than perception, facts outpacing realisation as they pull away from any chance to respond.

The warp and the weft unravels  faster every day.