Still Points
by Vernie Lynn DeMille
Still points.
Rarified markers of time
In the liminal spaces of life.
The eternity between
The compression of birth and
Before the first breath
Expands new lungs
In a cry to declare to the world
“I am!”
The breathless excitement:
His face so close
You can count the flecks of gold
In eyes that change color daily.
His lips, less than a whisper away,
Wondering whose bravery
Will close the distance.
The fear, wonder, and fruition
As the child takes those
First two steps:
The step that turns their backs on
Who they were before
The step that turns their face to
Who they will become.
The golden moment of promise
When the veil is lifted,
The vows are read,
And the words are said: “I do.”
The bitterness and grief
When a promise fails
And a vow is shattered
With the heartsore words: “I’m done.”
The hallowed wait
Just after the last breath.
When sorrow steals our strength,
And we hold onto the last air
To mingle our respiration;
Before breathing deep
Of grief as life goes on,
But is never the same.
Still points,
When the time between heartbeats
Stretches out with the strands
Spun of hope and sorrow,
Like chrysalis wool binding us tight
To the edges of life;
Knowing the unknown is upon us
With no turning back
From loss,
Growth,
Change,
And being.
The ending from which
Every beginning follows.
The moments
Between you and you,
The stillness of
One soul caught
Between two dimensions.
Breathe it in;
Deep, full, beautiful.
And when you take that step,
Off the edge and into life,
May you bring the stillness with you.
April 5, 2024
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