My Back to the Window

This afternoon as I sat
And watched the shadows
Of leaves dance upon the
Wooden floor, a bird trilled
In the garden behind me
And a mote of dust lazily
Swam through the air
I seemed to be suspended
In that liminal space between
Time and timelessness
Where there are no questions
Nor are there answers
Behind me, the world turned
Lengthening the shadows
The dance moved on.