A “pose” for meditation on the 196th day of our circumnavigation.... Time is a strange concept; it is six o’clock, no it is five o’clock, it is yesterday in my hometown, while now I am traveling in the land of tomorrow . My thoughts are arrested by the key word, “now”, now is the constant, the great forever. What matter the numbers we have ascribed to time in an effort to delineate it’s parameters, control it’s influence, dictate our motions in it? There is truly only now. Now it is daylight or now it is night, now it is the in-between of dawn or twilight. Now is eternal, immortal, an illusion sublime. Now is this place, momentarily mine. Oh my goodness, somehow, I’ve gone and written a poem! But it is only half poetry, the other half, prose. What to call that, now? With great amusement I grant it the label of “pose”.
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