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.