I set out on my quest
in search of the constants
that we all crave,
and sought the rock
amidst the stream,
and the apparent fixed star
in the inky sky.

Instead I found a world
in constant self-revolve:
evolution and movement
and the seasons change,
the tides ebb and flow,
the moon dances,
in her intricate cycles
and the winds blow.

And I turn and see the
faces of loved ones,
lined by inevitable years,
with stories etched in
joy and tears,
and in all of these
life’s currents are heard
loud and clear.

Yet in these turns,
these shifts that defy
my quest like in the Odyssey,
I found some strange grace
In the uncertainties and
certainties that
become the stuff of beauty.

Grace in the splashing setting sun,
in goodbyes tender with no return,
in the grand symphony of stars
under changing skies,
in joyous gains and crushing losses
that shape our course,
in all of life in its rises and dips,
toward the end of this quest that
we must all face.

 

2/6/2023