the past

we live amongst the detritus of yesterday.
change happens a tiny thing at a time,
and, unless I am mistaken,
everywhere at once.


yesterday,
a million years ago,
the big bang:
which is the furthest away?

the problem is that,
because the legacy of the past is all around me,
I constantly confuse the living present with this dead past.
life (and change) only happens in the present.
the very present
not the general present which is today
or this week
but the NOW, this minute:
the only place where you dwell
[but, of course, the only place where I dwell too!]

this knowledge momentarily terrifies
as much as death
and overwhelming diversity.
[all aspects of you: awesome god]

my instinctive fear for that which I do not understand
is only overcome by trust.
I do not mean a 'shrug of the shoulders'
but rather an 'approaching';
a 'walking towards'.

a 'drinking of the cup'
and a warm welcome