I remember when Time fit in the palm of My hand

When

it was small enough to fit in my pocket but not heavy enough to weigh me down

I remember reaching into My pocket only to feel the comfort of its shape

I remember those moments when the Clock was not a burden

when numbers unraveled into simple words

I don’t remember if the stone was cold beneath Me or if the wind was blowing at all

But I do remember the sound of thunder and the absence of warm rain

and I do remember the Silence

still and thoughtful and patient and not waiting for anything to fill it

I remember the way the lightning did not look like lightning no forks or rugged scars but a blink of light interrupting the dark

I remember in those pockets of light an Awakening of what lay beyond it

A wide ocean and a blue mountain suddenly becoming tangible

Everything else remained wrapped in the quiet of night and maybe that’s why I remember it

because I saw something whole for a split second breaking through the window of Costa Rican trees

Beautiful because it was real and I didn’t feel like it should be

If I could explain it any better I probably would

If you were there you would share that feeling of wild wonder

You would feel infinite and pure and unbroken

I don’t know much more than these spaces of broken Time

These moments when I feel Myself existing for Myself

But I do know that for once I don’t have to give anything back

That it is simply Time waiting for Me

to

slow

down