[ljgp]

Water finds its way by falling
like fruit the ground refuses to swallow
over shooting the contours of rocks,
bound to resolve wet grains of stone,
in the isolation of the world they share.
Reflecting the falling, beyond asunder
Like seafoam spewing its frosted envelope
Brightly over greying cliffs.

We who are rendered are held together
by the signs we each leave on one another.
The rest is the excess that the sun's light
will take like a sculptor with a white blade
that sharpens to nothing held by a hand
dissolved when it has nothing left to hold.

Time flows because, like water,
there is unevenness, now
time sides with water, in light
of stone: their common enemy.
But once that conflict's resolved
it'll be common no more
turning against water's shore
for all is time's enemy,
its tide only temporary.

If the Sun is beyond looking in
then i have felt everything
except the sun, staring in
and the sun's benevolent face
was illuminating
beyond the darkening space
infinitely narrowing.

But in flowing where it cannot enter
and holding the many to their centre,
time redeems itself, returning all it lead
back to the love it left in blind symmetry.
Grace is leaving - in equanimity -
Time alone to the many; its enemy.