Through our normal daily lives, time consistently pushes us forward toward goals and moments we may or may not be aware of. We are on this train, sometimes without a conductor, but most times with no way to pause or exit that train. While in some regards, the choosing of what defines our view of time is arbitrary, it is rooted in science, astronomy, and universal constants, motions, and laws of gravity.

Imagine what our lives would look like, how much more hurried we would be, if the earth spun around the sun in half the time?

As the sun sets on the last day of our definition of a year, it does give a mental pause, a time for reflection, and a chance to look ahead at another 1-year block of time. The transition grants a reasonable chunk of time to work with, to plan, and set individual goals as I strive to wake up tomorrow better than I was today.

As the sun falls behind the forest and its last rays scatter through bare branches, I begin to accept this as an opportunity to start again, being with a clean slate so to speak, and visit the fields.

Wind-swept and holding tree shadows, the fields are silent and calm and with no judgment they accept my presence as I prepare to transition to the new year.



That crossroad we come to
in moments of stress and blocks,
the struggle choking rational thoughts,
the behavior, the actions – this is not me.

How did this happen?
How did I get here?

Change is subtle and patient.
One day we vow to find balance,
to live and act a certain way,
to be, most importantly, better than
our-self yesterday.

Then time takes over,
and one winter morning, awake before the alarm,
thoughts are consumed with the upcoming day,
week, and months, items and events beyond
control, but consuming, pushing
away everything that is important, that matters.

Closing eyes tight, breathing, trying to push
this away and overcome the thoughts, but it has wrapped cold bony
fingers around the mind and wont let go.

I am losing sight of the path,
I am losing focus of the empty fields.

Each day folds into another as the weeks
and months pass with little notice
and soon another year rises beyond the horizon
and I am forced to confront where I am in this life
and if this is where I want to be, is this the path
I started down before?

How do I break from this cycle?
How do I wrestle back control and stake claim
to the life I am meant to live?

As my years here have grown,
and the world around shrinks,
the uncertainty of time increases,
and if I only learn one thing in this life,
it is this:

Cherish today, the people, animals, trees, right here in your grasp, as tomorrow they may slip away.  Tomorrow may arrive, or it may not.



When I see the evening sun
gracefully fall into the forest

and the last rays sweep across the sky
I hear the slow progression of cello and violin

as the music makes room in me for these rare
moments and feelings of peace.

I have been down that road
many times in this life

hoping that what is unknown and unseen
would change, a different result would be waiting

but after years of chasing shadows
and fleeing from truths steeped in stars

I found you waiting beneath the setting sun.

Beyond the fields of flowers
reaching the horizon,
another field exists
reaching beyond the stars.

This home, this planet
floats in the endless
expanse of space though
fields of time and gravity.

We harvest the land
and pull sustenance from the earth,
while we gaze upon the heavens
and the possibility of other life.

https://iso.500px.com/usa-night-sky-photos/ Farming the Rift III by Aaron Groen on 500px.com

Shifting through photos
I feel no connection, no recognition
to the person with time and years
ahead of them, looking to the future.

Pausing at one in particular in the midst of summer,
oak leaves burning with white light,
the sun slowly fading into the horizon
behind the hill at the street’s end.

What was etched into the mind
when the image became a permanent
moment tossed into a shoe box?
What was the last thought defining that moment?

Years will pass and that young face
will undergo an outward expression
of the strife, agony, depression, and final transformation
built upon the experiences, cast from the struggle.

In time what we are in this life
circles back to the foundation,
the hands pushing up from the earth,
the roots feeding a child’s growth and imagination.

Across the salted plains
We watch the sun fall
The moon rise
The machines sleep.

In dreams spaced by 100 years
I see you on the highest peak
Of the homeland we once
Ruled together.

I woke in the snow blanketed forest
Facing the morning sky.

Tenants of dreams fill each fiber and neuron,
I can only piece together that I was not made for this world.

I lost direction when the void
Overtook my body and my mind
Accelerating through space
Toward unexplored, unknown, and untouched worlds.

Where is our home now?

Above photo from: Nancy Chuang

Turning back with empty hands

they find the path along the river.

Rain begins as they near the forest

and where they last arrived.

Stopping at the treeline they wait

through changing seasons.

– to be continued –

The child stares into the mirror of the adult
he is to become and both wonder why.

the adult sees a child running through
sand ahead of the waves and the look
of amazement when birds take flight

the child sees an adult lost
black eyes cold and the look
of bewilderment when he realizes
the path from here,

the only way forward,
the choices that lie ahead.

how do I get through the mirror?

the child sees a stray dog
and runs, chasing it into the water.

the adult sees a stray man
and plans to run, escape this life.

events begin to play upon the mirror
and the adult can only watch and remember.

thinking back to the one moment
the planted seed took root
the forked road vanished beneath black dirt.

only the shadow is visible in the mirror.

an outstretched hand reaches for
the other as lights fade away
and the mirror shatters.
duluth-20040425-northshore-06

Another year on the calendar has passed and we celebrate. A celebration of accomplishments and of moving beyond events and moments we wish to forget and gain distance between.

But time has a plan for us. In the day-to-day scheme of life and the normal cycle, time is always moving forward. Ticking away at the same pace, always giving us 24 hours in each day to accomplish whatever we need to take care of. However, as a certain unit of time passes and in specific moments, we feel that time is going more slowly or more quickly. Does time change, or are we capable of controlling time, wrestling it back onto our path, the direction and plan we desire to follow?

I think at the end of each day, we and time set aside our differences, rest, and vow to continue the battle the next day. But what are we fighting for? What is our plan driving our actions, desiring some result, barreling toward some endgame? And what is left behind, what are the consequences, and who is impacted by our sphere of influence?

Regardless of time’s plan, and no matter what we do and the struggle we exert, time will visit each of us.

What we can do during the time we have, is to strive to become a better human than we were yesterday. To realize the sphere of influence we have on each other, and to make the most positive actions and results we can with the precious time we are given.

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