Breaking Midnight's Sternum

A spring birdsong teases, despite winter settled in place. It's like that – not entirely free from time but also, empowered to vibrate forward, backwards, beyond, and in, this.

Heading north on 131, just outside of the city, an encampment of blue and gray tents stands next to the flooded river. These humans experiencing homelessness do not want the rules and regulations of the shelter a few miles downriver. In non trivial ways, their journey is not my journey and yet, it is a shared pilgrimage. This war is our war and yet, there is no war at all. Step back. Further. Climb the highest cliff. Look over your trembling feet to what is unfolding below. That is how it is.

The doctor said no more coffee or caffeine but honestly, how does that even work? Half-cafe, oatmeal, and few apple slices. Light breaks the sternum of midnight earlier each day. This quickening is never not wanted or appreciated. How does a garden get planted and tended when one is at work? When does the dog get her companion back? Who records the way light falls through ever-greening canopies? The equation of give-and-take is not so simple.

The instrument of our phenomenal self – how to play it – how to love it. What we cannot outgrow meets us in another way; what we must outgrow falls to the ground as leaves shed for the earth's nutriment.