Nothing Else But Stillness

The world will grow so green around us soon
While we wait for time to begin again.
At night, still there are stars against the sky,
And there is sound and there is silence too.
The paradox of stillness within all
This motion, turns all our worlds around us.

This is the shape of things that will fall down
And fade away to the forgetting dust,
Just leaving the barest traces behind,
The fading echoes only of what was.

We thought this time was permanence. We thought
That this was all it now could ever be.
But, there was silence here a time ago.
And there was stillness there, beyond all time.

To these slight forms that fade and then dissolve,
While there is nothing else but stillness here.
And there is nothing else but motion now
As even stillness moves around and shifts.

This needs keeping as though it was once real.
We need the shape of it around our lives
While there are dreams we hold onto, as though
They could then make us real and give a shape

Here is the sky and I can hold it high.
Here is the ground and it is underfoot.
While nothing does ever remain the same
And there is only now and changing still.

There is not much else to say and nowhere
For us to go. There is only the time
That turns, and turns on throughout all our skies.