lives and intersections

 

we can spiral toward the light

the spiral is like a circle

that stretches across time,

each of us are on different staircases,

winding into the future,

somehow in the turning we can meet

part of ourselves again,

when my Daddy died abruptly, when I was just 14,

I was in despair, and then “fine,”

until I’d come around a corner

and feel the loss, again, as fresh,

friends can be like that,

for they’re climbing their own staircases,

I love it when our different paths intersect,

and we can get to know each other once again,

at least a bit,

our visit almost frenetic in the asking and the sharing,

for soon our trips upward and outward

carry us away from each other,

I have never really understood those

who have chosen to hold their life to a circle,

as much as they can,

staying as adults where they lived as children,

as if to be held in a continuity

that denies the vine and chooses the stationary plant,

I feel and act upon my inner drive

to find my own way to seek the sun,

I still return to ancestral homes

so that my roots remember the beginnings,

I still love to move along with old friends

who remind me of who we were,

who we are, and who we can be,

the circle can break,

the spiral can end,

it is the journey to be and to become

that lets us know who we are,

may the spiral be unbroken,

as we climb toward the Light,

as best we can.

by Henry H. Walker

July 6, ‘21