the spiral at the heart
the spiral:
movement circles back in on itself,
but in each turning,
when it meets itself
on the same side as before,
the place is just as different as it is the same,
after the loss of someone
you can move forward into the new
and then, as if you come around a corner,
you face the truth that still hurts anew,
though not quite like it did the last time,
I return to the Smokies
two and a half weeks
after the fires laid bare
the frailty of our sureness
in the sheltering constancy of the woods,
in the enduring solidity of the structures that ground us,
a whim of the wind, a roll of the dice,
the future transformed,
I feel I’m on the spiral,
whether I’m going up or down, I don’t know,
I do know, though, that I want to understand,
and each new perspective helps me to glimpse
a piece of that grand truth only God knows for sure.
by Henry H. Walker
December 17, ’16
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