Intangible Winnowing...

Sometimes I feel its blue pour through

The cracks that let the sunlight in

And all along the corridor of middle day

The rain drops grin

Sometimes the mosaic of moments

Bleeds and blurs; fall, winter, spring

And summer like a kaleidoscope of color, swirls

And twirls and spins

Sometimes the emptiness of want

Is filled with the intangible

Awareness that nothing stays long, save

Consequence infallible

Sometimes, it is enough to reel

Beneath the surreal winnowing

Of sand within the hour-glass; we pass but once

This way of things

© Janet Martin