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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