Equinox

At times between midpoints
not sure if I'm coming or going
staying or leaving, feeling or knowing

welcoming or dreading
all hangs in the balance
time flowing into the next fullness

dying or birthing, dying or birthing
be still, be still while the world turns
on its axis in its little orbit

its homey little pocket of the universe
I imagine its vastness is endless
unable to comprehend any edges

time and space dissipating perhaps
to the nothing of starless darkness
where no light shines yet

billions of years later -
Returning now back toward life
local time lapses this musing

like a swirling eddy spiraling off the edges

of the strong current a digression away

from the inevitable entropy

the natural progression of every summer
summoning the next big push of life energy
spent and the next time out of every winter

each fall asking - So how’d it go
How did you live, what did you sow?

Do you weep or will you reap

enough to get you through?
And if you make it through another winter
another ending, another change

would you do it all the same?
All this reflective mental game
one more hand to play

a house of cards 

in the absence of blowing winds

before dreamy sleep

or balmy walks in fields of wheat
or snow so deep

my heart to keep

her universal primal beat

keeping time in a treasure chest

marked time moves on – it doesn’t rest.