In the all of it all, the eye is the core of the hour and the way of the day is the pace of the heart. The time and the place are the height of adventure. And that's how it is in the all of it all. In the all of it all there are futures taller than tall and more focused than not. In the eye of it all there is a perception of ones self not the reflection we see. In the core of it all there are empty spaces left between broken places. In the hour of it all there is the rapid heartbeat that comes in restless sleep. With the way of it all there is protection in the adventure not rejection.   With the day of it all there are lingering moments passing pensively toward night. With the pace of it all there is faster than fast and slower than slow you go. With the heart of it all I will go and go on to the heart of the friend within.   At the time of it all there is now, no other, a passing moment... here and again.   At the place of it all there is tranquility like that which I only knew as a child.   At the height of it all are warm conversation and the savory flavor of love. At the adventure of it all the sun relinquishes the sky to the moon lit night. The all of it all is a rolling wave scattered across the shore selflessly lost in it's own magnitude.   I taste the bouquet of the all of it all when my pallet is full of springtime air and flavors of flowers divine.   In the all of the now there is peace somehow and it fills me completely with the all of it all. Copyright William Carey Clause Sr. [email protected]