There is a time in every life
when the very act
of looking back and taking stock
becomes essential
to going forward.
Without the light
that shines out of the darkness
of the past,
we cannot chart
a new path
to the future.
Life and death,
a twisted vine sharing a single root
A water bright green
stretching to top a twisted yellow
only to wither itself
as another green unfolds overheard.
One leaf atop another
yet under the next,
a vibrant tapestry of arcs and falls
all in the act of becoming.
Death is the passing of life.
And life
is the stringing together of so many
little passings.