Slipping into approaching dusk
With welcome rain and scent of must

I fall into its swirling midst
Wander through its clinging mist

I lose all safety and sense of time
Find my eyes becoming blind

Other senses left unused
Sharpen to a finer hue

Listening now with more intent
Owls cry and raccoons vent

Water leaps the river’s edge
Its currents run without a hedge

Never looking where they’ve been
The roll and crest and roll again

This moment races like that river run
Never stopping, never done

Until we grip it without mind
Bringing order to the flow of time

And then our souls with greater choice
Thread the needle and we rejoice