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Moment by moment, things happen.
Seen, unseen, the Universe unfolds,
unfurling its minute secrets
before the eyes of those who would see.
Those who say that nothing happens
watch minutes, hours, days pass,
empty of event.
So they fill their time with
restless activity,
waiting for something,
anything,
to happen.
In the meantime, stars explode,
connections are made,
buds open,
clarity is achieved and then lost,
a baby holds out her hand,
a stranger smiles.
In the meantime, hearts and minds change,
prompted by a line of poetry,
a friend's comment,
a deep breath.
Who can predict the end result
(and yet not the end, for it never ends)
of the fluttering of a butterfly's wings?
Even as my pen moves (or because my pen moves)
everything has happened.
http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com
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