We are made of time.
We are its feet and its voice.
The feet of time walk in our shoes.
Sooner or later, we all know,
the winds of time will close the tracks.
Passage of nothing, steps of no one.
The voice of time tells of the voyage.
Sink down into the center of each flowering moment.
What if the moment does not flower?
Sink down into the center of the moment.
What if I can't find the center?
Sink down into the moment.
What if the moment is gone?
Sink down.
What if I can't sink down?
Then be still.
The moment will find you.
The center will surround you.
The flower will bloom within you.