A clenching fist of words reached within
And tore the fibers that bound your life to mine
Alone I am ready to begin
To fill the future’s unending depth of time.
The breath that once spoke from heart to heart
Fueling flames raging in a canyon of years
Scorched the earth and drove our love apart
Escaping on a river of Memory’s tears.
But distance now has changed the view of pain
From leaving me to waste and fear and cry
To knowing that it passes as All again.
Faith renews and Love will not deny.
Today used to be my wedding anniversary. What once was a significant date with happy memories attached is now just another number on the calendar. It was a gradual erosion. A long time ago, there were celebrations and gifts…then cards and flowers…then dinners and pleasantries. Now there is silence.
As the day began, I realized it would have been 16 years. But it isn’t. It’s no longer a marker of anything special.
Like a sand castle, time was spent building, constructing a place… with towers and spires… and bridges. A little more here, a little smoothed-over there. With each addition, it grew to something recognizable. A moat was dug for protection from the encroaching sea. The sun shone on the glistening grains and it was good. Not Cinderella’s castle, but a fortress with flags flying nonetheless.
Then the tide turned. At first, just small damage was done to the perimeter. Then wave after wave assaulted the structure. The intrusion ate at the foundation until the crumbling began. One wall at a time, it slipped away. Eventually, as always, the big breaker came. Crashing too close, it overwhelmed the turrets and the last defenses. When the water receded, the castle was gone. No one walking past would ever know what had been.
I thought I would be sentimental about it all. But I’m not. It was created, it stood tall, it washed away. Maybe it’s because it was a slow decline. Maybe it’s because a part of me knew all along it was temporary… like all things. And now, surveying the landscape, I’m just a witness. I don’t regret the effort I put in. It was time well spent while the sun was warm. I don’t curse the forces of nature that swept it away. It’s inevitable. Things change. People change.
What remains… or what has been re-created…is the beauty of a pristine beach as far as the eye can see.
From my window I can see a pond.
I guess it’s not really a pond. It’s a bioswale where the runoff from the rain fills the retention basin until it can slowly seep into the ground. But, when the water is up, and there are ducks paddling, it’s a pond. It’s surrounded on three sides by a small forest and the little hill around it is high enough to serve for sledding in the snow.
There’s a hawk that circles over the woods occasionally; some doves nest nearby; a swarm of sparrows visits regularly; and every now and then a blue heron tries his luck. Mostly though, gaggles of Canada geese visit to graze the green grass on the slope and float on what water is there. I watch them grazing, a few keeping their heads up on guard while the others eat. Then in turn the others will stand watch until everyone has his fill.
The past few days a single goose has been here by herself. I say “her” because she’s a little slighter in size than most of the geese I see. She grazes alone. She swims alone. She tucks her legs under her and rests alone. A dog-walker came a little close, and she rose up and waddled a few steps, spread her wings in a flurry and settled back down. The puppy proved disinterested and wandered on.
So I wonder about this lone goose. Certainly, she would be safer among her relatives. Might she be injured? But no, she has flown to the water and landed and swam, so clearly if she wanted, she could leave. Has the flock left her? Do geese do that? Abandon one of their own? But again, a gaggle passes over and she doesn’t even honk at them. She has the grass she needs for grazing, the pond – should she need to move away from danger – and at the rim of the berm, she rests.
Brave goose.
She passes the time in serene surroundings.
Such is the way with wild animals. In uncomplicated nature, they are fulfilled in each moment. Once basic needs are met, they are at ease – creatures with no struggle, no schedule, no worry, no regret. Compelled at times to action, but moving freely, living their lives to the utmost of their natural ability.
And as the last light of day skims the treetops and sets the edge of the hill softly aglow, she lingers, content.
“…therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. ”
Matthew 6:25-34
Random Meanderings 