to be in a hurry,  won't do,
deadlines,
are always there?
Time, is reflective, always
was will be scarce, why rush it?

Slow those hands, push them down to
half past when,
halfway to then.

Seconds,  take reflecting
meditating,  remembering,
hear concentrate on the sounds
of birds,
walk outside now, this very  instant,
briefly feel   awareness-
actually hear-
those birds chirp,  a background
chorus to a most important symphony.

Let the time tick-tock as the rhythm
is the backbeat,
feel that last brief wisp that color
that smile that feeling, let it sink in
mean something more than what needs done.

Don't hurry it. It comes.

I heard it as distinct as I hear my heartbeat
in my ears. A slight, faint plaint, from the corner
of my closet.
Was it a purr? Or a breath from a lost friend
calling me to look. Marge, a phantasm, memory?
Touched my shoulder. I heard words say,
look in the little box in the corner.
I did, as I thought of looking back,
and saw two eyes peep up. Grey white furry head attached.
They seemed to say to me, I am sorry.
I heard mews then, I knew.
My Babay, a stray I took in when I  lost her, was nursing four of
earth's miracles.
I haven't cried as much since Jan 7th.
I fed her tuna milk.
and, bought me a big
cigar, alternating,
between memories,
and the newness of life.

are glimmers talks with someones eyes
listening, you know,
when care is real and flow is
felt and right is there and rhythm
goes straight forward with no doubt
from eye to eye
mouth to heart
soul to soul
and tears felt flow with confidence
that now
is then what all you waited for.
the day is now no more
awaiting for that day to live.
You are living
now.

We both still here, the storms have drowned us.
The droughts wilted, dried up our flowered words.
Look, between us, confidentially,
nothing will defeat us.
We both, continue lovin', never
stop laughin',
We care!
And , we both
are still here!