The Turning

The air feels different today, the light
has turned toward the west.
The soft butter-gold of winter shifts now
to blue, the spectrum opens wider,
the days grow longer.

Time
is bundled like light,
both wave and particle.
Months and years rolling, rolling.
Seconds, minutes falling upon us
with measurable points of contact.

I spent a minute in despair
and my light dimmed to brown.
I spent a second in blind anger
and it faded to black.

Then

I spent a year in learning
and the great field of my soul
went to shades of green
I had never seen.

I spent a month in giving
and my heart’s light glowed
butter-gold.

The year turns as I turn,
the light falls upon me to refract
and re-color.
I am clock, I am prism.

This part of me is always free.

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