Gently woven strands stretch before me- a ladder to be tread upon, forward, forward, always to the future. Rungs drop one by one behind me with each passing step, never allowing a second chance, only a remembered glance and the constant feeling there was a better path to choose. Oh to pause and rest awhile. To have a moment when all hangs, frozen, just as it is. Nothing changing. Nothing changing. To simply be where I am and who I am before the next rung is up. Stillness, you are the transcendent luxury I never claim till it is too late. -Rachel Hall