Moving Time

Moving Time

The emptiness of the house is a nearly perfect metaphor 

(Or is that a synecdoche?) except here it is the nothing that stands for everything

The life moving so quickly ahead that the pieces fall behind

The reminder of how little is required to suffer and no matter how much there were

It would not be enough to staunch the fears and pain

The metaphor is the thing after all the tool that lies midway between big and small

The knowing that going deeper is just as likely to expose mystery

As would the letting go if only one could imagine a way to that cinemagraphic end

The scene in Interstellar where the spacecraft sweeps into the black hole

And then, Auden like, comes back to where it first began

As though for the first time.

We can imagine the furniture truck arriving

Arranging the familiar in this still new space

To give it a semblance of the shell we’ve carried

From place to place for decades while starting

Over again in a fresh setting in a new house

Pictures on the walls in new arrangements 

And even now the stories that will become us

Begin with the binder not what is to be bound

Life too will fill the space allowed to it.

mcj2017:1004