wait, you do not need to move now
wait, you are exactly where you need to be—
and the branch that crashed to earth behind you
and your car which needs repair
and the blisters on your feet
are asking you to wait—
to savour this fresh moment
this instant when something new unfurls
silently within the shelter
of a hidden part of you
you are aware of something
new and numinous
that clings not to the past but says,
now,
you are luminous now
when you risk revealing
more than the shy edge of you,
forgive yourself for all that you are not
and weren’t
and perhaps will never be,
bask in the balm of that acceptance
so you father, mother, cherish
who you are right now—
and now is too short a word
for this long moment
Tanya Coburn
Beautiful Clare. And the timing is spooky. Thank you. Anne x
>
I really like this
lovely, ‘now is too short a word for this long moment’. thank you Clare!
Absolutely gorgeous, Clare. Something to ponder…
Thank you for this wonderful poem Clare, just what I needed to read at the moment in time. And it reminds me of the story of ‘at your own pace’ also known as ‘the snail crossing the road’ – here’s a version you might enjoy: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EvnOlSUhBxk.
Warm wishes from London, from Bronia x
Thanks, Bronia, yes, finding our own pace, it’s ongoing research and this seems to have captured something a few of us are feeling. I’m practising going slowly but getting more done. Warm wishes too from Melbourne, although today it’s one of this summer’s thankfully rare scorchers. x