through a black tunnel
following strands of gold to
light at the far end
On a cold winter's day I stop at a farmer's coop to look at some rolls of black plastic pipe tied into enormous bales as big as a one-story house. The gold cord binding each bale of corrugated pipe makes a pattern like a spider web, but the center of the web is empty, a dark tunnel with a blinding bright light at the far end. It's early January, a time for reflection, of looking back at where we've been and looking forward to where we're going. While I'm standing in the cold looking through a giant tube, I start musing about time being like this tunnel. We can't always see clearly where we came from or where we're going, but if we look closely, we find golden guidelines and bright glints highlighting the ups and downs of the path, with glimpses of light at both ends.
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