Oft shocking are life’s changes,
from face-lifts to a coat of paint
or rivers coursing through the Earth
to create canyons over time.
Yet here we are as decades’ beings
limited by calendar, as time itself
administers her mighty hammer
in such a way that we stay blind
to changes o‘er the eons.
Dynamic, though, the black and
white, the day and night the
wattage of our little lives,
as we parade in custom cars
and scoff at metamorphosis
by wind and rain,
and moving plates
that slide with grudge
a millimeter per moon cycle.
It’s up and down that we perceive
in seconds minutes days and years,
and thus, like nails, we feel the peen
that strikes as alterations swift
compared to Mother Nature’s take.
We store, with pain, anxiety
or dread or worry--sometimes sad
these difference like left and right
because like cats, in loathing’s state
we purr, displeased.
Life, being far from static, shrugs
at our resistance and our frowns.
Perhaps we need to suck it up,
and turn and face the strange.*
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