Falling gracefully
slowly, gliding on a wave
A sense of pure, undiluted calm
no hurry, no place I’d rather be
It’s that space between
the last three years &
the rest of the story
Clean, fresh, cool air
breathing easy
so much better than say
holding breath under water
Arriving just in time
while snow is white,
the world is young
and the possibilities stretch
far beyond the arc of imagination
January 15, 2012
onethumbpoetry 