No hurries—no worries.
I can sit to meditate on the sun—
or the rain.
Rain that cleanses
And smells like spring—
or summer.
I walk miles alone.
Crowded only by thoughts.
Or I can hide with multitudes
It is all the same—
this feeling of now.
I swim in the ocean
Or a lake or a stream—
Wade through creeks
trickling with that sound
that brings soft sleep.
I catch a hook in my mouth
And jump with the bass
Flopping to be free
Once again.
I can do all these things in my own time.
Transformation
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