We celebrated our fortieth anniversary
not with a party or a romantic date,
but by packing, preparing to move.
From what’s accumulated we choose what stays or goes;
the staying of love we chose long ago
we choose again and again, always choosing:
the constant, the container, the compass,
the warp. The melody, no matter the key,
the tempo or time signature or thousand harmonies.
Abandon the things. Set them out at the curb.
Cling only to presence, being there for each other:
it’s the serenity that lasts, underneath the noise.
Things break. Places change. Hearts grow.
Presence persists, adapts, abides.
When we leave the house, the house we come to.
The this and the that come and go.
The where and the what change and flow.
The we remains. And, so, the gratitude.
June 9, 2020