Proven in time: the color of dreams

A forest at night, looking up into the stars.

Water into sand

My theory of eternity hovers somewhere
close to the slanting angle of late fall sun-
light as it skips over small-town roads and
tangles itself in snowberry, dry grass stalks,
and alder weavings, something any dog,
rabbit, and chickadee can read before we
can, as both a warning and a timeless truth:
eternity is only knowable as something
gone from the heart before the final leaf
falls and the first snow flies, it’s a simple
calculation of longing and loss, desire
and solitude, proven in the time it takes
for the light to turn from a pale dusting
to a golden glassing on every surface —
unified, small, and as easy to understand
as sleep — green is the color of hope and
blue is the color of dreams, everything can
be understood but nothing can be held onto
in life, so hold what you can as long as you
can, and let everything else fall from your
tired hands to the ground and vanish
like dark river water into warm, dry sand

(From my notebook.
For my beloved Ella, on her day.)

photo credits (where not otherwise credited)

“night forest & stars” / by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash