Upstream

The distance grows, and narrows at once.

The future catches up with me, even as the past shrinks.

The past, that was my stranger, becomes a stranger to us all.

The future, old friend, is now familiar.

How long can you paddle upstream, before you are carried on the current?

What curious impulse compels you there? 

Did you think, like a child, you would find some singular source?

Instead, you found only solitude and silence.

Weary arms.

A taste of what’s ahead.

*Image: Clint McKoy