Some moments strike which cannot be eschewed.
You sense before they come when they are due.
They soon explode with force and magnitude —
electric sequence bathed in déjà vu.
Some soul emerges who can change your life:
a lover, teacher, angel, friend or guide.
A book appears by magic at your side.
Such meetings slice into you like a knife.
Thus, I play with every precious moment
which dribbles down the parapet of time.
Every second now seems like a portent
which fashions for me some new paradigm.
When synchronicity is on your trail
you cannot put a foot wrong, fall or fail.
© Alan Morrison, 2014