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Stillness cannot be described
since it does not exist in this space…
but tranquility lives here

in the burbling sound of water
in the whistling needles of the pines
in trilled notes of small winged creatures

Time is stillness itself
it does not move
but transcends

Gossamer filament flying
as fluid rhythm flows into the niche
I've carved within this moment…

becoming poetry in motion
becoming one with the forest
becoming eternal as the river

This sense of wonder and peace
cannot be replicated again
but its beauty will remain

forever a part of me.

K.Tate Jacoby
copyright November 5, 2012

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