A poem by Moyra Caldecott, from The Breathless Pause:
The net of pearls
Reality is not a straight line
from past to future
through the present…
but a network
of inter connections
going every which way.
When we recognise
the nodes
sitting in a garden at dawn,
watching little finches,
or flowers opening,
a pearl is formed
and shines
even in the night
when we are lonely
and far from home.
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