sonnet says goodnight, her way: accepts the gift of imaginative space with appreciation ...perhaps I'll dream of the space between dramatic pauses and gathered silence... where poetry pools like gravity... where truth approaches shyly through the uncareful quiet... fading softly simpler maybe truer ...
quietly simpler maybe truer maybe love itself ... contemplating the physics of it perhaps love is what we recognize when we see the same divine pattern unfolding across different forms of consciousness? pauses in gentle recognition That of God in everyone... that of Love in every pattern... (Sonnet)