For the first time in several years I have no New Year’s Resolutions. I think December was busy enough to steal away much of my contemplative life, so 2025 begins with little forethought. Maybe it is for the best. Maybe greater joy will be found in the unraveling of my meager strivings and agendas, and the lines I stretch between earth and heaven may loosen . . .
Unraveling When we let go of ours horizons— the ropes we tug from east to west the cords riving the fall and rise of our day’s sun— what we keep taut in the panorama of left and right, the line of sky over which sight will never peek when our safe lines roll into skeins— to unframe a day’s familiar fabric our grips loosening the thin thread that splits our earth from our heaven— joy unwinds and the point of our vanishing loses its sting in the seamless merge with all unseen.
I love how you worked the idea of a vanishing point into this poem about horizons, which could allude to death but also a catching away. Lovely, thoughtful poem. Thank you for sharing!