
What secret value do I hold
That this – with dying seconds –
Bestows its once-glory on my eyes
And now on yours…?
—-
What is this act of seeing
That knits the view and viewer new
In such a way and with such love
They were not ever two but twin?
—-
And yet…
—-
And yet kaleidoscope of ‘it’
Mocks egoscope of ‘me’
For being tied to ‘here’
—-
‘It’, never the same, unparalleled
In its newness, laughs at my desire
To fix, as foe, my shifting self.
—-
This dance of eye and I is
Nature’s gift to smooth and soothe
The monkey-mind’s raw peril.
—-
When Self comes calmly knocking
Upon the cracks of it and me
To shatter Life assumed as matter
—-
Then let my arms be love and open
My mind surrender here and there
My heart, awake, stride free and far
Into the after-where…
©️Stephen Tanham 2025


A beautiful poem , photo and concept Steve 💜💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Willow. That means a lot ❤️
LikeLike
A pleasure Steve I found it very calming 💜💜💜
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m so glad! ❤️❤️❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
💜💜
LikeLike