Facing West

Slowly, without consciousness

Of the journey that began

At our seminal moment,

We turn.

Predawn light lures our attention.

We see a curious drift toward gray

And crawl to discover its meaning.

It announces the coming of day.

From the East

The day’s journey unfolds,

Reaches its zenith before, inevitably,

Surrendering to the gravity of darkness.

Our steps follow the Sun’s arch.

South, as spring offers its share of joy and pain.

But always possibilities abound.

Long days invite love and lethargy.

Soon, so very soon, mornings will taste of premonitions.

Falling leaves and memories crowd the calendar

And dreams become less flamboyant.

“Outrageous” softens to “silly” then “circumspect”.

Firewood and compromise vie

With preparations and admonitions

Delivered to indifferent addressees,

While we negotiate the failing western sunset.