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The Road

The Road

there’s

a flat line

that runs down

the center

stitched in time

we see it

direct

in the light

that cuts the eye

when you first wake

in the world

before there are words

only a season

a wave on water

rippling out

we float away

helpless

and return unafraid

the boat of our body

circles the sea

testing the high wind

we take off

on a great exploration

to find our way

back to ourselves

our true selves

a lifetime of living

in a glimmering

there is a clearness

in the wake of loss

that no other season can say

what is unsaid

more than death

there is a dying

of what was

a baby does not stay a baby

a toddler does not stay a toddler

a kid does not stay a kid

a teenager does not stay a teenager

a young adult does not stay a young adult

a middle-age person does not stay a middle-age person

an older person does not stay an older person

a centenarian does not stay a centenarian

the form changes

constantly

to create an opening

a clearing

that allows the rain in

the beautiful rain

that forms in a cloud

and drops from the sky

to the soil below

where each seed struggles

on its way

to see the sun

TL

Published inPoetry