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,

unstoppable,

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

idleness,

cowardice,

hesitation

(but often effectively disguising itself as

relaxation,

prudence,

patience)

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

leap.