Things swing,
Back and forth like a pendulum,
Around a pole like a tether ball,
They just go,
The pendulum keeping its time
Steady, predictable, patient
Where a tether ball races and slows,
Tracking erratically through space.

Days are things,
Most often tethering,
Least like to have a cool pendulum swerve.
It’s these days when I’m flying around
That I must remember this is life
With its ebbs, flows, and rhythms,
Filled with joys and heartaches
All there to be swung upon.

We all know
How things work.
We all know
How it goes.
Still, sometimes the shock
Of what may be right
Just seems wrong.

Winds of change
Offer more of the status quo.
Clouds bring rains
Washing little away.
The sun keeps rising,
The moon glows,
And stars find, or fall out of, favor.