A Question of Time

Weathering currents
from birth’s ebb
to the growing-old tide.

From embryo on,
purging upon the rocks of reality
becomes an uninvited necessity.

Out of the womb,
we're held high,
slapped,
smiled at
smothered with whispers assuring us,
we’re alive.

Oh, how generously we’re…

Cuddled,
pampered,
protected,
educated,
extricated from the family,
exonerated of past mistakes,
and finally cast to the unknown.

Then…

And only then,
the real weathering
of currents begin.

How challenging,
this thrust into foreign waters,
the inevitable coming of age,
at many an age, truth be told,
the "Holy shit" of awakening,
under mind’s water,
gasping for air,
not knowing wisdom waits in silent repose,
Nature’s catharsis of our superficial struggle.

To be denied such resolve,
is to not know of infinite breath,
the conviction that another kind of living
is ready to begin.

Yes…

Casting ashes of fate to the wind

Is to not fear the next chapter.

Allow a question of time.