It's Still Life

This poem is in response to Friedrich’s article entitled Terra Dystopia, which I recommend — it is an excellent read. He asks: What kind of time are we living in today? I find myself living in a Kairotic Interregnum — an age between ages, when the old dissolves, the new has no name, and choice itself will become destiny.

Kairotic Interregnum
(The Order of the Long Now)

We dwell
in the pause —
the breath

between reigns,

where old orders shatter
and new ones
are not yet forged.

This is the time of almost,
the age of the unanchored,

where certainty dissolves
like mist
on a mirror.

But do not
call it empty.

This is Kairos —
time charged
like lightning,

heavy
with unborn consequences,

every choice a stone
dropped

into the well
of forever.

To live now
is to stand

on the threshold,

one hand bruised
by the closing,

the other outstretched —
groping for a handle
that has not yet
learned its shape.

The streets march
in opposite chants,

where silence
is itself
a side.

Where the smallest
word

tips
the balance.

Every choice
is a door —

open it awake,
or be carried through
asleep.

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