Fay Slimm.

The Minute

 

 

The Minute.

 

Connecting with sky above and earth
below,
eyes unfocused I resolve to observe
slowly
and regard with mindfulness Tiny\'s 
unfolding.

 

Grass blades creak, restless plants

moan.

Blooms rustle and squeak as petals 

open.

Soil heaves with stir when rootlets

unroll.

Busyness mutters when miniscule

grows.

I watch smallness whisper in voice 

control

and as awe perceives almost-heard  

motion 

littleness drops noise to near-silent        

key-tone.

 

At my feet the minute is composing
unknowns
by shifts of momentum compounded 
with lows 
and inbuilt mumbling non-sounds of 
its own.