My Santiago

Less Years; More Time

I’m getting older, And Life plays out to me in curious, beguiling ways.

It is a Chameleon on the branch; Disappearing from sight, Then, obvious to the naked eye, Yet in the same place.

Head scratching, I wonder in what dream I missed it?

I pulse with gratitude, For small things;

The day, together with you, Spent drifting, discovering, diving deep into subterranean caverns and in those extempore moments, a blinding clarity, (Always unexpected) Where I sense things in a word - less epiphany And feel a fragile one – ness (with you), For – achingly - brief moments. But, knowing that such clarity can only be fed, Intravenous, through the senses, In measured doses.

Less years But, now, More time.