Transitorium (The Hourglass)

With her right hand turning the nob right birthed "Asia"
It was the "Heat of the Moment"  That October breeze blew into
her window reminding her of Septembers ago when she was a debutante
in the April of her life

With her left hand turning the steering left birthed a sight of
a lonely house on a hill.  The November chill blew into her window
reminding her of Octobers ago when she
married and planned a family in the May of her life

With her right hand she cupped a droplet of rain turning palm downward
to wave it goodbye.  The December sleet blew into her face watching son
run onto the gridiron reminding her of Novembers ago when she delivered him
in the June of her life

With her left hand she stroked the empty pillow beside her turning
her hand upward underneath it to draw it closer. The January freeze knocked against
her window reminding her of Decembers ago when she was warmed by always
receiving what she wished consumating the warmth of the moment as if it were the July
of her life.

With her right hand on his knee she turned her hand upward to receive a pendant from a stranger for a hurried Valentine's dinner for two.  The February ice knocked her soul paralyzed reminding her of that January past when she discovered she was jilted for one younger in the fading heat of the August of her life.


With her left hand she curled her daughter's mane. Turning it down to tighten her bow
The March gust tickled her skin reminding her of Februarys past with courters lined up to
present love at last, since her beauty was soon to wane in the dry weak warmth during the September of her life

With her right hand she carved the Easter ham, turning it up to contour each slice
only to place it on a half empty table. The April wisper trickled through the window
caressing her ears reminding her of March pasts when she always found the golden egg
as the golden opportunity always found her as clear and brilliant as the October of her life

With her left hand she held her mother's arm turing it down to direct her to the nearest
chair in the doctor's office.  The May melancholic humidity rendered her lethargic, reminding her of April's ago when her mother's vibrance centered her soul of things to come
 for her but faded into illusion just like her mother's life force as the fading light akin
 to the November of her life

With her right hand she fastened her son's gown turning palm upward to center his cap
per graduation day.  The June flowered air awakened her smell reminding her of Mays ago
when new beginnings brought never endings of prospects but was only a mirage as she
was due to lose her mother soon it being the December of her life

With her left hand she brushed away the sweat on her forehead turning it down
to thrust salted crusts toward the floor. The July blaze flamed her skin reminding her of a Junes ago when his touch inflamed all senses as those warm evening with every second representing new beginnings as if it were the January of her life

With her right hand she sifted sand through her fingers to palms turning it up skyward
to let it be awakened by the sun for once.  The August "onshore" salty pasted her memory of Julys ago along this same shore, when her father's caress let her dangle safely in the sea but not too deep, as if all was to be preserved to reserve an endless future of masculine protection as if it were the February of her life.

With both hands she covered her face collecting tears to allow herself to be cleansed at once.  The weak September transience wistled through her bedroom window reminding her of Augusts ago signify a change in seasons to a quieter more temporate time in life teaching that begginings can only start when illusions of the future are left past.  She grabbed the crucifix 'round her neck and on bended knee prayed to God, promising to be thankful for the present of the presence that would be open to find a new beginning as a fresh spring day in the March of her life.  She opened both hands to receive his grace as if it were the March of her life.

JCB

*This is a work that has to do with how carefree expectations as a child are always warped on the rocks of reality.  Time, just like waves crashing upon a seashore transform, warp and even make anew the object it antagonizes.  It is those whom accept this fact of life and make the best of it that can find true peace and be able to have both hands open to the gifts that heaven desires to give, gifts that can allow you to start anew in life.