What makes our life..
feel real?
More real than real?
It is the act..
of letting our present
moment..
sit completely still.

Still living in it..
for exactly what it is.
And nothing more..
and nothing less.
To see its gradual
unfolding..
Is that not to be
completely blessed?

Is every moment
not a glimpse
into God’s eye?
Upon the canvas
of our present,
stilling of His gaze..
on self-repainting..
of still life?

The art of living still..
within itself?
And every brushstroke
is a kiss from Him.
And none of it
is ever missing..
For, The All of it
is present now,
was always,
and forever
will be..
still there.