The Time In Between
March 23 2023
Only looking back
does it all makes sense.
Or at least
a certain order comes clear;
the stages of a life
that got me here.
Not that I could see it happening
in the tumult of the moment;
the passions
and overcomings,
the busyness
annoyances
and daily mundanity.
How things take shape
only in retrospect.
So the end of winter, beginning of spring
has a gratifying certainty;
happening
in real time
as I sit here and watch.
The earth
turning as it's always done;
its constant rotation
and off-kilter tilt
as it circles the sun.
And the seasons
like reassuring landmarks
when you've lost your way;
mile-markers,
set in stone
and drilled into bedrock
on the side of the road.
And this time in between,
in which I contemplate the past
and consider what's ahead.
Will I look back
and see this as the next stage,
a new beginning
a crucial end?
Who I was
melting away,
My nascent roots
extending themselves,
frozen soil
thawing slowly
in this unaccustomed warmth.
Even if it is as messy
and back and forth
as the season of mud,
spring blizzards,
basement floods.
Or am I locked in
like the frozen ground?
Running on inertia
on my predetermined path,
a solitary planet
around a dying sun?
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