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moments

we live out our lives
to the beat of a clock
at home in our hives
behind a lock
our head's where we're at
as we think our thoughts
about this or that
about others and oughts
but then when we're grooving
we look out and see
how open, how moving
perceptions can be
a feeling, a flower
a dewdrop at dawn
a surge of power
a cheerful song
and as they touch
our quivering heart
we see how much
is in each part
but as the clock ticks
we change how we see
and everything clicks
till we're no longer free

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Last update: 25 January, 1995-1999 © Bev Thornton, bev_thornton@email.com

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