This is another one about progress.
Both raising the question whether it's an illusion
or not.
Is it an illusion in history?
Hegel says that history is an account of the slow unfolding
of "Geist" spirit.
Is that true?
And in one's own life, we like to think of ourselves
as moving from stage A to stage B, but is that true?
"Unfolding."
If there is no spirit unfolding itself in history,
no gradual growth of consciousness beneath the land
grabs and forced migrations, the bought elections, the betrayal
of trust by party faction in the name of progress, what
about spirit in the personal realm?
Unfolding slowly inside us, so slowly that our best days
seem like a holding action.
Season's repeat themselves, but the tree shading the yard
keeps growing.
Don't be chagrined at the sadness
you felt this evening beside the bed
of a friend whose strength is ebbing.
Was it more profound than the sadness of yesterday?
That you still can't imagine a fraction
of what he's feeling as the world
he loves slips from his grasp.
No progress from your perspective,
but who's to say what you might notice
if the scroll of the last few months
were unrolled on the table before you, how clear it might
be that your understanding of all you're
losing and losing him has been slowly deepening.
Another day, you say to yourself at dusk
as you climb your porch steps, which
you notice could use some scraping and painting
this weekend, a fresh coat that with luck will last a year.