We don’t grow in straight lines.
We grow in spirals. And seasons and
cycles. In babies being born
and grandmothers dying.
In daffodils blooming and leaves
falling. Lovers meeting and hearts
breaking. Doors closing
and gates opening.
Knots tied always untying.

Opening, circling, unfurling, becoming.
Growing ’round and back ’round
again.

Not in straight lines