A String of Beads

String each breath together
like a strand of beads;
prayers for the moment
in which we live.

I am silent
but for the mind
that must travel
to places I've never been
and into the future
where I might never
arrive.

Patient,
the cool, smoothness
of the body pauses
smiles between my thoughts
and my clumsy fingers
and narrowly
escapes--

the light of the half moon
laughs as she dances
in spite of the racing clouds
and abundant stars.

Morning, she realizes suddenly,
is just over
the next rise.