Back Around (7/2020)

I lapped the lake that day,
roamed around my head.
It’s been a couple years by now,
but I just heard what you said.

Now I understand.
I was a rubber band.
Never snapping, stretched too far
or flying from your hand.
Never still, never not moving.

Sundial stands
while the stars just make their way around it.
Time, today, asleep in the shade,
that’s where I finally found it.

I napped that day away,
slept on deep breath thought.
I didn’t get the message sent,
but what I’m now, I was not.

Now I understand.
I was a flailing strand.
Never catching, caught the wind
or the weight on command.
Never still, stuck there not moving.

Everything’s changed but this feeling.
What fills us up when it all crumbles down?
And when does the shade make its way back around?