moments of clarity come
like transparency to the bottom
like the cold crystal waters
of Tobermory they come
not often but enough
in stillness of evening air
between the swells they come
in the low, slow evenly spaced valleys
clarity comes
like the pause between breaths
or the momentary quiet death
between the beats of a heart
to take hold of something other,
other than life, reminding us
to live in the spaces
to live in the gaps
to live between the pages of it all