There Comes a Time

Poetry

A poem by Marion Atmo

Tree in gale

There comes a time on the journey to love
when you no longer know what or how.
What used to be gold has gone up in smoke –
nothing is certain now.
The face and the name don’t go together
and the sea doesn’t quite meet the shore –
and you’re wondering, wondering
whatever you came here for.
All that is past is part of the soil,
the future will come on a breeze.
Sway like a tree
so perfectly still
no questions
what, why
or how.

Featured image credit to Khamkéo on Unsplash

Marion Atmo

Marion Atmo is a sannyasin since 1981 and now lives in Wales, UK. She played bass guitar and keyboards in the English and Dutch Osho Communes and also in Pune. pleasejustsit.blogspot.com

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