Returning

I am not looking
to be certain.

I have seen
how quickly certainty
can become a wall.

And how easily
we forget one another,
each of us alone
in what we think we know.

Now
I find myself drawn
toward something quieter.

Not a conclusion.

Not a victory.

Not even an answer.

Only a remembering.

As if beneath
the noise and division,

beneath fear
and the need to be right,

life is still calling.

Not forward
to somewhere else,

but back

to what has always been here.

A deeper breath.

A listening heart.

A shared humanity.

The courage to remain present
with one another.

Perhaps this is the work.

Not becoming.

Not arriving.

But returning

again and again

to life.

     by Chuck Craytor