Regrets about the past and uncertainties about the future keep us from being right here, in the only time we really have. Sometimes its called the Now. I call it Middle.
There is no beginning
There is no ending
There is only middle
And everything is the middle...
The waves have no start
They have no stop
They only go from swells to ripples
In and through the middle...
All is a continual reflection of endless connectedness
Endless beingness
A steady but gentle affirmation
From there to here...
Then to now...
Above to beneath...
Occasionally, a few unexpected reminders of present existence
Perch themselves on the pilings of our understanding and
Suggest that ages before, there was a pier--a pre-existence,
A place where the coming of human form was celebrated.
