Norman’s Gate

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As with passing on leads to a procession.

All things have a beginning in time

that measure the impact,

 drawing a dividing line,

Marking the point of collision,

A moment of the unavoidable kind.

Long time ago,

Remembered most days if truth you must know,

Not always as good as I try to show,

The push and pull at odds I seem to grow.

I look at life as the view from that day,

Pretend sometimes to enjoy the day,

Of what we wish and seldom really say.

Glimpse of healing from time to time,

As greater perspective I find,

The question I ask over again is not just mine.

  the purpose of tragedy ever understood,

Part of me thinks it should.

Shows the risk involved in life,

Rarely am I totally safe,

Calls out the difference at stake,

To remember not to fake,

The introductions to others I make.

Shedding the fear no longer afraid to act,

Alternating back and forth from the defensive I go on the attack,

Cycle of circle, 

Escaping nothing,

The gate keeps swinging,

There is a chance of finding,

the precarious balancing,

In just now being,

through the Gate a point of entering,

it will bear witness of the change when return trip exiting

a landmark, a point in time, turnkey for awakening,

threshold punctuates the experience,

 the depths

 of this life worth living.