Be Still

And sit for hours.
Be as still as the meadow is
And sit until you wither,
Sit until time riding
On the crests of waves
Made out of the sky
Have long since drawn
High tide over the sedimentary
Remnants of your life.

Time will blow us away
And our dust will float
Aimlessly, plunged to the
Depths of conceivable experience
Like schools of unidentifiable fish.

In the meadow,
Mink and doe
And falling autumn leaves
Comprise the whole of your mind.