Wednesday, February 29, 2012

Feb. 29

365 days in a year
seems like plenty,
but each passing hour out of 8,760
vanishes more quickly
than the one before.
tick; an opportunity missed
tock; a chance that has been lost
to the inexorable sprinkling
of sand from the top
to the bottom
and wholly irretrievable,
and even the best laid plans
may find themselves
crumpled in a heap,
pierced by the fangs of time.
'I mean to' and 'I want to' are invisible
to the serpent who does not
perceive good intentions
but only the heat of fresh prey
and who strikes
in the form of
(but often effectively disguising itself as
and leaving carrion
to rot until the leftovers are gone,
wrapping paper recycled,
when, as though by magic,
a spark of life returns
and the process repeats itself.

Is the cycle set in stone,
and do we travel
a closed circuit
cul de sac
in the wild woods?

To create time--physically impossible,
and yet with some
creative and
arbitrary bookkeeping,
8760 becomes 8784.
There's no magic,
no sorcerer's stone
to prevent the petals
from falling from
the wet, black bough
and yet
there's beauty
in the numbers.
An extra day
is an extra opportunity
to follow through,
to take that chance,
to let the heart speak.
Routine doesn't have to be routine,
but sameness tends to beget sameness.
Trenches are well-traveled ruts
and ruts form
from familiar paths
so beauty must lie in uniqueness.
Calendars were made by man
and an extra square
once every four years
is merely man's best effort
to keep our means of recording
time consistent with what's happening
out there,
but there's so much significance
in the extra square
that man never intended
though perhaps God did.
Improvement starts with change,
and change starts with a

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