I’m tired.

My sanity trickles with every grain of sand that journeys downward through the narrow passage between heaven and earth. It has only been three decades - much too soon to be bottom heavy.

The leaky shelter is transforming - becoming a new entity with a translucent cap - a pyramid is forming below- it’s widening and points skyward - home.

One by one and often-in unison matter falls, an inevitable rolling voyage from peak to base.

On a good day I play salmon and race upstream, and on other days… exhaustion coupled with retraction, yet, not losing my accomplishments entirely.

Nobody said it was easy, in fact, quite the contrary. Conviction, purpose, and hope… my fins and scales - my tools. And love, above all, a medicinal energy gifted to those of us who don’t want to travel alone.

How many times can I turn over the hourglass?