Time and its relativity are clear now.
The animals and I keep a same schedule, and like them,
I believe I still matter. Hours are meaningful
Although they carry no cash.
Instead of colleagues, I converse with a cold front.
Clouds dash by at a pace I
Don’t know. Underneath, fears lap like
a flooding creek. I let them go;
tossing pieces of grass with gravity.
Time is stretched by gratitude.
I no longer rush. Let’s throw a ball
for the dog. I choose my adventures and
look up when I like.
There is space to expand and contract. To be.
We are now our own universe.
Tomorrow, a concept, just out of reach.