time arcs and flattens
earth convolutes as if eating itself

muffled airport static
sedated chatter and endless bling induce
a kind of waking coma

as a friend said this morning over a lukewarm latte
‘we aren’t paying attention and suddenly our lives are over’

this journey is a pilgrimage
we are seeking the mountain within
the lake within
the kalachakra moment
when all half-lives, quarter-lives and fragmented lives
into a single state of purity

motionless motion
grace upon grace