Some days walk slowly past.
or just plain tired.
On the flat path,
yesterday’s pebbles become
it’s much, much easier
to trip over a molehill
than a mountain.)
Nowness is diluted.
Nothing is wrong and yet
each moment is heavy
with the absence of
the active joy
of everything going just right.
Muscles miss the effort of climbing
as much as the easy swing of descending.
Time dawdles from day to day
wrapped around bright flashes of
things that insist on being noticed.
But these slow times
are just as much a part of life
as the roaring torrent of ecstasy and heartbreak that is love,
or the surge of adrenaline in a body facing times of stress and change.
Patience is as necessary as courage.
And the flat path is also
part of the journey.
So I walk on
through the ambling days. Certain
that interesting times are ahead.
I’d forgotten that this week’s Totally Optional Prompt was to write about tempo… but maybe it was working away in the back of my mind, because I wrote this, and only after writing it realised that this was very appropriate to the prompt!