Men and The Goddess

This “fell out” of my “Morning Pages” today as I considered the day and date. It’s basically just a muse about the “real” meaning of time. Not much substance to it, actually; like a breath!

Mid-week, Mid-Month                   

Mid-week, mid-month, we seem to have traveled fast!
But time is like that – both expanding and contracting,
Just like the breath.

Looking forward it seems to extend out endlessly
Toward the edge of All, into timelessness.
Looking back it all collapses rapidly in a fading,
Forgotten memory – no time.

With a deep inhale the past catches the present
And the events of before blur into now.
With a deep sighing exhale the future fades as well
Into the ever present now.

With another inhale we expand again,
Poised, ready for what lies ahead –
But holding that breath we wonder:
Are we truly ready?

We hold, poised at the pinnacle just before we step
Into the future, exhaling in a rush
To catch up with ourselves.
Whether we step or pause seems not to matter.

Holding to the center is what we have now.
Hold on tight. Weeks, months: only rotations
Of the Earth about the Sun. Weeks expand to seasons,
Cycles return to the start, endless spinning and revolving
Through the Cosmos to arrive just here.

©2025 Richard W. Bredeson. All rights reserved.