The ability to accomplish anything.
With this idea in mind and action pending,
We proceed to sit quietly,
Last bird song and warm squares of light on the sofa.
We are in a living Seurat.
Our eyes glazed more with every slow breath.
This comfort dims darker moments of the day.
Dimming the dark makes it darker,
But less realism doesn't come without reservation.
Without the darker moments
We would have nothing to beseech calm.
Creating a calm with obligations pending
Is a heavy feeling of lightness.
Forced lightness can be a viable method to change.
Reality.
We can be elsewhere whenever we want.
It is with chaotic disorder that calm is present
As we relax, sitting or lying. Nightfall is eminent.
We glass over the days events and forgive loved ones.
Rejuvenation feeds us. Probability evades us.
The essence of calm is the pleasure,
Not the body's limp state. For a body is a body.
To love without the body present is calm.
This is love beyond the chance to conceive
Love is for this. Time is against this.
Yet time must give birth
To the inevitable memories forcing us to love.
We are reposing with a purpose. We sit quietly.
The bucolic evening pierces us
In a different place than the day did,
Taming us and regrouping our life,
Giving us the ability to accomplish everything.
Giving instead of getting.
Mark, 1995, revised 2010
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