I hang suspended between
    Christmas and New Years.

I swing slowly in the hammock
    of nonengagement,
strung from one maple to another
    in the shady yard of childhood.

This week has always been thus:
    vacation from school as a kid,
home from college as a young adult,
    extra days off when I was working,
the busyness of Christmas behind me
    (though not its wonder),
a new year lurking in the winter shadows,

and one delightful week of nothingness.

I hide in the hammock.
    Where is Dirk? they wonder.

He's reflecting, grateful and at peace.
    He's remembering,
grieving a little,
    letting go,
looking and listening to what's here and now.

What's out there and out then
    simply not relevant,
not in this moment.

Just this,
    suspended between the incarnation and the incoming.

I close my eyes and exhale.

Text and image © 2024 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.