The Now

It is a dark horizon.
The wind is unsettled,
at times salty,
at times filled with the breath of wildflowers.

It is a dark horizon.
The wind is unsettled.
It may bring storms. It may pass by,
pregnant with rain you will never see.

Perhaps it would be wiser to go in,
to anticipate the storm before it arrives,
but no, you sit peacefully on the sand
and watch. Feel. Smell. The now.

About this poem

I live much more in the now than I once did. There’s pros and cons to that, but for me, it works.

Tom