Finally the sun
gilds the hollows in the snow.
A new day begins.
The ending of one thing can signal
the beginning of another and the beginning
of another bodes an eventual end
but maybe there are no beginnings or endings;
maybe they’re really all just middles
that occasionally speed up or slow down a little
to made us think we actually
have some sort of control over things.
We are always in the middle of something,
even if it’s nothing.
Something is happening.
A beginning where I thought only endings lived.
An awakening from a long troubled sleep.
A quickening of synapses.
It is a moment to be seized,
an opportunity to be exploited
so don’t be surprised
if my goals and attitudes change
course. You are still
my oars and anchor,
the star by which I steer,
my travelling partner of choice
Every beginning holds within it
shadows of an ending.
Pine cones foreshadow firewood.
Every ending holds within it
seeds of new beginnings.
After fire the fireweed blooms.
Live in the middle as much as possible
Climb a pine tree, pick the fire weed,
let beginnings and endings fend for themselves.
Beginnings are seductive
who mow the grass growing on the other side of
the fence you built the last time you began.
Beginnings are demanding
The ‘if’ in qualifiers
The ‘want’ in quantifiers
The desired outcomes and arbitrary deadlines
of personal progress that festoon your
pie in the sky chart.
Beginnings are deceptive
Sleight of mind
The used car salesmen of self-improvement
who throw in a genuine pigskin silk purse for free
with every new beginning.
Beginnings are just endings in disguise.
I will not begin today
I will just be