Shrunken Horizon

I used to feast on the world in huge bites,

Stuffing life in with both hands as fast as I could;

Now I nibble

Carving off atoms, with a knife as sharp as a scalpel

I used to plan grand conquests

And great new ventures;

Now I use a five step checklist---recorded on a Post-It Note

To write and send an email

I used to run for multiple miles

(A number even larger in kilometers);

Now I make sure not to walk too fast

So my heart-rate doesn't go too high

I used to stare off into the void, 13.8 billion years in all directions

Marveling at all the wonders to be understood (a little bit better at least);

Now the horizon seems very close

Bounding my new, small, world

When I was younger

(So much younger than today?)

I thought reaching this point in my timeline

(always many years in the future, never soon or now)

Would suck the meaning from my world

Now, standing forevermore in a place that's edge is a stone's throw away

All that I thought would make my universe so small

Does not

And though I rage and cry from time to time

(Every day)

at where I am

I can---if I allow myself---find contentment

And joy