Time

I can feel it,
it is here,
as I lie upon my hammock
in the absent hour.

What we mean by holiday:
a bubble of eternity, then maybe a nap...
In timelessness, lift off to past memories,
shards of childhood,
remembering that swim in the river by the mulberry tree,
bread, chocolate and butter wrapped in a rough cloth,
the sharp smell of summer hay and young sheep.
At Tenuta Sospesa, emptiness is a beam
to pierce the shady groves of the Soul.