The old man
circumambulates the park
as slowly as he can.
He walks ever so slowly
not because he has to…
He knows that time will come
soon enough.
He has discovered that slow motion
is the key to staying centered
in the bloom of the moment…
So the old man maintains
a deliberate pace
until the moment itself
expands to the point
where he can watch in wonder
as the trail of every action
fades slowly back into
the fabric of eternity
Reading this poem is a meditation; my breath is slowed, my heart is full.