We spend our days
planning, plotting, painting
every detail in our picture-perfect life.
In our three-year calendar,
we diligently mark events, anniversaries, vacations –
secure in our illusion of predictability.
We start this future-fantasizing early:
dreaming of the fairy-tale wedding before wearing a bra;
starring in a heroic career prior to passing grade school.
Time moves as it should
until it doesn’t.
Too much rain combined with melting piles of snow
flows from the north and swells riverbanks,
overtaking once-dry ground.
All thoughts of controlled tomorrows are washed away.
Unhurried receding water
forces a painful patience-practice.
As if by magic, the dirty residue-lined land
is soon forgotten as we rebuild
our castles in the sand.
Impermanent yet important:
shimmering in the twilight sun.
photo by Teri Holford