wonderings at pace

there’s a pace i still don’t know,
a tempo outside of time,
an internal rhythm seeking synchronicity.

you’re still, not stagnant,
pulsed for striding, not quite striving,
a pace that permits awe and noticing.

may i stay patient, until you say push,
present to participate,
in this pace of pleasure and proximity.

for the quicksand that slows me,
the friction that rubs me,
met not with defeat but curiosity.

for every hurry, something’s missed,
when i rush, only glimpsed,
these gazes into sovereignty.

as the pace is properly settled,
the peace becomes still,
an offer emerges, for the pursuit to consume me.

pursuit matches pace,
delight meets desire,
filled to the fullness, running in intimacy.

if time stops here, no need to hurry,
this is the chase, being chased,
so there’s not too slow or behind truly.

i want to feel that flow again,
dance in your delight again,
paced by awe again, show me this beauty.