Stages

All is chaos now.

Such noise. The toys

Strewn all throughout the house.

The boys running. Always running.

I chase them though the years

Hardly noticing time’s passing

And lose myself to the necessary.

All is quiet now.

I ache for the noise and the toys,

And the boys running

Down paths of independence where I cannot follow.

Only watch and wait.

Days drag by, and in the lag I find myself

Only to discover

I was never lost at all.

All has come full circle now.

The noise and the toys have returned.

And a boy

The uncanny imprint of the ones before.

I chase him, laughing,

Clinging tightly to the moments

Not willing to let even one slip away unsavored.

Prepared by experience and longing,

I am exactly who I was meant to be.

The boys at Lake Sinclair. October 2020.