The Rememberings

Do you see the way it swings,
From the snow and ice to spring?

Do you feel the way it shakes,
Just before the fall and break?

Do you hear the way it cries,
As it completes its final try?

Isn’t the world we live most dark,
When suns commence an upward arc?

Doesn’t the meaning of a night,
Become clear in rising light?

Is this what I represent?
Is this why I don’t relent?

In the dirt and on my back,
I burn then rise to attack.

With hurt, defeat, and gobs of fear,
My bones can feel a win is near.

And though the storm has just begun,
The way it turns is far from done.

Is that way just the flavor,
Of this life that we most savor?

Resistance and the call to arms,
Panic and ever greater charm.

And in my savor of the turn,
Great calm is found when it burns.