All of this is given –
the subtle colors of the grass in mist,
the times of work, and this,
a drift through almost sleep,
where I still hear the music,
but my sense of where I am slips
in place, in time, in physics –
my planes of presence bend, blend through each other
When I come back, the light is different,
and I feel rested, but still languid,
and richer for these fusings of perception,
the layers they have added to my day.
©Wendy Mulhern
June 17, 2023