The Harried Mystic

Braided lines, heaving forward, lurching back; timeless movement heading westward toward the place of setting light;

children loving grandchildren, deep wells of playful joy, give age it’s lustrous meaning and it’s passage precious rhyme.

Once Sweethearts now watch together as the clock’s tick fades to whispers, and their ship of certain purpose slips gracefully out of sight;

Tristan and his Isolde, well- assured in love-soaked reverie, sip tablespoons of wonder, tender carried on the flow of time.

Each kiss, each hug, each smile and gentle consolation, steadies the way as she goes from place to place;

Till we finally see the wonder we’ve been seeking, right there before us, never flinching, the eyes of the Beloved’s Face.

© The Harried Mystic, 2020 and Br. Anton, TSSF. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited.