When, in winter, you momentarily see,
And feel,
Summer
And when, in summer, you momentarily feel
Winter,
At these moments
Your finest soul
Momentarily shines
Despite the tawdry demands,
Insults,
And uncertainties
Of the present
At these moments,
You slip out of time,
Falling back,
And forth,
Within a realm
Of qualities,
Into the land of the senses
When a river of light
Burns along
The curtain’s hem
And tiny lavender
Blossoms redeem
A concrete gutter,
There and then
No thing needs
Striving for
Nor to be sought after,
Gathered or guarded,
Nothing is lost or lamented
At these moments
You,
And the world
Are replete
Paul O’Kane, June 2016