The Now of Then
by Odin Roark

When all seemed normal as a sunrise.
When anger showed itself… normal.
When agenda played its hand carefully, knowing deceit was unacceptable.

The Now of Then

For many, now is but a time one can only visit in a grandmother’s photo album,
or at a tilted gravestone’s reflection of light after storm clouds pass,
or the unblinking eye of survival as the head of a tortoise recedes into its hollow cavern of ancient time’s echo.

The Now of Then

For most, the then is all but gone today.
Most are either wallowing in worry of the present or fantasizing the future.
Many moan the should-have-dones of yesterday and fearing the got-tos of tomorrow
And the now? The real Now?

Who of us are not suffocating in our hampered evolution… and don’t know it?

Some would say that to force denial of yesterday
is to never see the real tomorrow.

Thoughts as I look out my window at the sky’s ever changing colors,
darkness moves to allow rest for life’s next burst of light tomorrow.

The Then of Now

Such an inspiring dichotomy this,
the humanistic journey of branching where one’s main axis
forks repeatedly into two branches,
yet, disregarding separateness.
like the then of now, the now of then… sharing a unique oneness.