Often loss and growth happen simultaneously, but it never feels that way when they're happening.
The failures, which become our stepping stones are only geographical, and geological, in hindsight.
While my teaching career has grown, it has taken an unmistakable toll on my writing.
My words languish.
Fairness has no place in loss, only in letting go,
and the hardest things to lose are those that can't be seen.
So you carry their burden alone. Changed and unchanged.
More than one thing at a time.
Loss and growth.

I went to the edge of the water. The Atlantic.
The water curled in, slowly tearing seams in the adjacent craggy mountainside
The darkened lines of erosion looked like teardrops on the opposing rock face.
Wet slashes from a frigid and unsympathetic ocean.
It becomes futile to deny the beauty of the fragile dance of water and stone --
Despite their inevitability.
Growth and loss.