I walk with the sun rising in the east and the moon setting in the west. This autumn day, with more leaves on the ground then on the branches, I walk between. This time when the days are shorter, the garden simply bare ground. This time of the year, when I want to hibernate, I am between the sun and moon, the east and the west, and my personal struggle of the past and present.

 This is the time of the year when I am reminded of my past, of the continual struggle to simply protect the possibility to dream. The contrast, of the words directed at me and the words I choose to say to myself, are as vastly separate as the sun and the moon. My past rotates around me, more present as the ground lays fallow and the nights deepen. As I walk between the sun rising and the moon setting, I feel the language of gratitude, developed, harvested, replanted, nurtured, deepen within me.

As I deepen my breath I cannot escape the question “What if?” I walk between the lost potential and the present reality. The moon is waning, the sun blinds me. I know what I have survived. I relax my jaw, arms, neck, and exhale.

I smile knowing what I have created.

I pause, imagining, “What if?”

 I stand in silence as the earth, sun, moon, move all around me.

I live every day with the consequences of my decisions. I rotate the question “What next?”

 This quiet moment is perfect.