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
