2009-07-29

Everything Changes

Everything changes in the small instability of the things we discover without wanting to. Everything changes in the shrouded space of infinitesimal moments that hang alone and incoherent in their closeness but sum up to the vector state of unwilling transition when we back up far enough to see the whole. Everything changes in the lockjaw seizure of time that threads through us like fine wire, mapping the grid where our bodies touch the air and the space and the isolated lives that flow around us. Everything changes in the wanting to go back to the time before you became aware that time was passing. Everything changes in the need to go back to the place where need placed you. Everything changes in the fear that wakes you from the dreams of the things you’re afraid of. Everything changes in the night that reminds you of how many days you’ve missed. Everything changes in the space of the time that passed while the emptiness grew inside you. Everything changes in the time it takes for the space of that emptiness to fill itself with the love that life makes. Everything changes with the life that love makes. Everything changes with the loss of the life that love was. Everything changes.