Downy: Silken Bedding

Falling precipitously
But landing softly
On a bed of flowers
Strewn about,

Fragrant and sweet,
Gentle and delicate,
The air wafting
Over them silkily;

Coming down from
All that lofty stuff
To rest in the simple joys
And settle in “enough;”

Satisfied with sunlight
And spring breezes,
Feeling unconcerned
With their temporaryness;

For that implies
The passage of time,
And what is that
But a colourful metaphor;

And yet,
That concept
Is no different
From all else that is

And from there
One can go anywhere
Without even moving,
As it’s all here;

Making sense
Of what’s present
By just being it
And it being.