A Poem for Living through Change

Here, 

Here,
where already
you have left behind
by choice or by force
what you knew
what you might have cherished
what you maybe took
for granted.

Here,
where not yet
do you know
where you’re headed
what it will take
what it will give
how it will change you.

Here,
on the threshold
you balance
on a comma
between the no longer
and the not yet.

Now,
may you pause,
breathing in,
breathing out,
on the cusp
in between.

Notice
where fullness gives way
to emptying
as the full moon
each month
sloughs
in its waning
and makes way
for new waxing.

Now,
letting go
of attachments
and assumptions,
may you release
what you’ve clutched
in your fear,
making room
for the stranger
knocking,
who is always you.

Now,
may you discover
what you’ve carried within
all along
but not known, named or needed—
ancestors’ whisperings,
newborn powers,
the hope of the young,
the resilience of Earth and her beings.

Now, these are crucial.
Clear a path
to their wellspring.
Walk it often.
Keep it open.

Now,
may you listen,
one ear turned inward
to your heart
and the body’s knowing.
One ear turned outward
to the suffering—
and the joy—
that will teach us.

Now,
look around you
at the others
waiting with you
on the curl of this comma.
You will need them.
They will need you.

Together
we will round this bend,
cross over
into the not yet,
where,
having let go,
we might finally learn—
a new way
is possible
Now,
Here,

“Here,” by Karen Hering, copyright 2016

Writing prompt: What are the thresholds you’re standing on today? What will you learn when you pause there? What will you hear if you listen?  What will you need to let go of, and what will you be given? How will you be changed? What will you discover within you that will guide your way? And who will be your companions? What might be possible now?  

Begin with the word, “Here….” or “Now….” and follow wherever it leads you.

To watch a video of the poem recited in March 2020, visit “Here,”.