The Passing of the New
It all comes back resown together
sometimes a seam is seen
often it’s invisible;
or once, twice, three times forgotten.
A world rushes in to change
a new or old reality -
not the blue or green globe
but your world -
that reality you create
to dovetail with mine.
When we are not counting
eons slip by in milliseconds
‘Nothing is new under the sun.’
What sun, yours, or mine?
We walk converging paths apart.
Often, ancient, muddy footprints
arrive at a shared future
though they are covertly dissimilar.
The old returns, the new passes away
and it is well,
it is very well
that we do not notice
or choose not to.
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