Gathered together with friends.  We welcome the warmth. The bread is broken, the soup is pure.  Tonight we celebrate. Outside no more.

Dust in a bowl,
an empty page.

You are the dust gathering, day by day.  A mirror image of an empty page, the stars are shining but your curtains obscure.

Her feet touch the earth,

growing like the grass.

White clouds part, the canvas turn dark, inside these thoughts still gleam, seeking out the stars.

The warmth of the water, the foam, the bubbles, simple things comfort and calm the mind.

The view from the window, the autumn leaves, lost amongst trees, thoughts branching, deep breathing.

The old clock is ticking, hands working together, small moments savoured; this afternoon, washing dishes.