Dancing Through Each Day

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Dancing Through Each Day
It hit me one Autumn morning;
As I shuddered to a halt.

All future plans went up in smoke;
And my past became just vague memories.

My mental Juggernaut ran out of gas;
Is this what death feels like I wondered.

For those whose time is up;
A terminal condition diagnosed and delivered.

No pretty words to save us;
In fact, no words at all.

Yet, all was calm, all is calm.
No panic, no breakdown.

Just a reminder of what is real;
And who I am not.

A still-point in a moving world;
A silent pause in a long line of chatter.

An alignment in time and space;
When all cycles cancel each other out.

The rhythms pick up;
Whose rhythms I’m not sure.

Rhythms of cells, of souls, of universes;
Dynamic as if by Grace.

New rhythmic cycles begin to unfold;
Dancing through each day.

© David R. Durham
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