Changes

Some things never change.

The sun rises and sets each day, whether we see it or not. Summer ends; the darkness stretches later into our mornings, and tears off the ends of our days. New babies bring an endless supply of firsts: smiles, teeth, steps. And love fades away, the only evidence that it ever existed, lives in the yellowed pages of worn out photo albums.

How do we fill in those spaces, the seconds and hours between sunrise and dusk? Before the moon, in its varying stages, becomes the only true source of light.

We make mistakes. Sometimes, unwittingly, we stumble into walls. And there are times, when we build those walls ourselves. We need them, whether to climb over, break through, or allow them to keep us where we need to be, we have a choice, as they are our own.

And then sometimes, and only because it happens to us, something changes. It will push the clock onto its knees, and break the pattern of all we know. But in the greater scheme of things, the clock keeps on ticking, and the universe does its automatic, rotating thing. On time, as always. A loaded gun pointed at your quivering chin does not cause the Queen to miss out on her morning cup of Earl Grey. The world keeps turning, and that sun rises on cue, just as the weatherman said it would.

We love, and we learn to live with loss. We are reborn, and a little part of us dies each day. We take the new bits and try to forge them to the old.

And the Earth keeps on turning. And the music plays on.