Some days and nights it feels too hard
not able to turn back former times,
ages and stages,
agreements and disagreements,
investments and disinvestments,
births and deaths,
to ask all the questions
I had no voice to ask yet.

Sometimes it hurts ache deeply
not able to turn back time
to ask my wiser questions of today
before we slipped apart.

Sometimes it helps to remember
I never could have learned to ask
if I had ever known this power
to stop time’s flow
remembering why this time and in this place
and how could we ever hope to meet
just right on river banks of questions.

What were our odds
of landing here together
given all of time’s vast space
invested to remember
what to ask each now together,
and why,
and how long is too short.