Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Its Constant Passage

And the winds of time will take us, with its sure and steady hand,
where the river meets the sea. - John Denver, John Denver & The Muppets

Each and every time I hear these lyrics, my eyes glisten. Even though it's technically a Christmas song, when it pops up on my iPod, I listen--regardless of the season. This morning, the song came on and the familiar tears stung my eyes. These lyrics, confound me, stop me. I find them simultaneously true, sad and hopeful, always urging reflection. These words remind me, as if the wrinkles and the lengthening of my children weren't enough, that time knows no stop signs. It does not nap. It proceeds on its continual, immutable journey.

Time, moving me through challenges and complexities. Time, delivering me to hard-earned moments of grace. Constantly in flux. Dependable. Maddening. Sure.

Today, as I drove to pick up Henry from school, I passed the cemetery. Cars lined the snowy street. People gathered to say goodbye to one of theirs. A cloud passed through my heart, aching for the loss of life. I sent up a wish for the departed that their life had been what they had wanted it to be.

Time, in certain moments, hypnotizes me with it's certainty--the hush-like descent of twilight, always followed by the promising glimmer of sunrise. At others, it's rash, steadfast passage smacks right up against my heart.