Days turn towards weeks; as months blur into years.
Knowing as I do the meter of change is rarely nor accurately predicted well.
Today it rains, with that circumventing some activities while
lending itself to others deemed earlier as less important. Time is such a
relative thing, wouldn't you agree?
The drops tap on the window like eager playmates inviting me
come discover a new game.
Such is our only real reference in our daily pursuits. How
alike or different is now from what we had known; from what we assuredly
anticipated in the wake of our well trusted ability to conjure.
I'm often amazed at the contrast between those who drifted out
of my awareness to those I ache to know details having passed daily discourse.
I was one who equated love and affection to desire, but I've come to revisit
that assessment for its accuracy; or more to the point, it's flaws; sometimes
we’re just caught inattentive.
I would venture to say this is the actual framework to all
ponderings and considerations when efforting to deem progress as good or poor.
Perhaps the genuine message is more oblique; more obscured.
With humor I'm reminded of the story of an optimist and a
pessimist walking along together and the pessimist says,
"The world is a mess, it's horrible, it can't possibly get
any worse"
and the optimist replied, "Oh yes it can"
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