Like Ram Dass and the Neighbour's Dog

                         

There is that moment, in late afternoon,
when the quality of the light changes
from day, to a warm golden amber,
spilling over trees and hedges, across the pasture,
warming the flanks of the deer and
the early springtime horses,
who nicker softly, looking towards the house,
waiting for the humans to come out
and feed them supper.

I always went outside to see it
goldening the trees,
the huge maple in my front yard,
the blackberry bushes
along the road, the fields beyond.

My heart would lift up
and over the mountains
to the sea on the other side.
I ached in the golden light
for all I had lost, remembered
to be grateful for all I have had.

There is a moment we have to be
paying attention to notice:
that shift from one time to another:
afternoon to evening, winter to early spring,
and that soft slide into old age,
when we Become the Observer, patient, wiser,
more accepting, smiling wryly
at the clamour of the young, who are busy
learning Everything.

I am mastering, like Ram Dass
and the neighbour's dog, how to
Be Here Now,
more present than I ever was, more attuned,
here, now, this moment in late afternoon,
moving so swiftly towards twilight
and  that dark impending Night.

Inspired by "Into the Mystery" by Tony Hoagland