Everything is moving in the rhythm
of summer —
sound of wind chimes,
scent of privet,
transfixing flit of
not-quite-random insects,
play of light on spider webs,
crows in conversation —
There is something to learn from this,
something to take with me
from the unhurried connection of events,
the space between
that’s long enough for slack,
supple so it ripples smoothly.
Here where it’s too hot
for spiking urgency
or any worry,
things still progress
prodigiously,
with ample room
to take their perfect time.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 30, 2013