when life conspires
to throw you into
the liminal space
occupying that window
bounded by
the no longer
and the not yet
your senses switch
to full alert
sight sharpens
sound permeates all
vibrational frequencies
play in the spaces in between
you smell blossoms
from centuries ago
and different continents
to the one your feet
are planted on today
a witness forms
watching
just watching
as the truth slaps
hard enough to wake the dead
breaking open the illusion
that you have any say in this
unfolding
you do however
get to choose how you roll with it
a pair of oyster catchers cry their plaintiff cry
birds out of time and place here
and this an echo that connects up dots
invisible threads
that sparkle and glow
as they weave your consciousness whole
merging into the fabric of it all
the deft touch of the great weaver at play
all is as it must be
the cloth is being made
weft and warp over time
ebbing and flowing
as the tides of your life
Paul Scribbles 
”… roll with it …” instead of stumble and tumble and rage I suppose. Smiles.
äWë§Ümmmm li Brilliantlyi channelled Paul 🙂 TäñKä
truth has been slapping me hard of late. good to read you, Paul ~