Timeless Life

The pendulum has stopped swinging
and it is poised, at a fulcrum
in perfect symmetry

around it light breezes blow, tiny
zephyrs bringing tincture to 
its steel, and on both its sides

the sun shines at once.
In such stasis and non-movement
does peace reside and the ticking

of the clock does not exist.
Around it surges the endless seas
always fretful in momentum

but the edge of land is always
near:  fair haven of golden
beaches and grass-strewn dunes

now, and again, I reach that place
and upturn my face to the sun
with a steady heart and peaceful

limbs, where sense is alive
and reason has its place in the
wide-blue skies stretching heaven

over me.   I see clearly here:
right to the horizon, and the sharp
edges of the mechanism cannot harm.

My hands are warm, and buzz
with response as I commune
with my mother gone

over to the other side:  that bodiless
place that exists, dimensionless
between the real particles of

our tactile life.  And all time
and history suspends, within
the moment, co-existing all

at once in spacious space -
all things gone are here:  accretion
of thought and life

surging through our universe
upholding it with pure force,
the other side of black holes

is light and beginning, a place
of begetting
that starts the clock:  that resets strife.

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