Unfolding

“Unfolding” is a poem that unfolded during a Words to Brew On writing session. I don’t identify as a poet, but when I dip into myself, sometimes the bucket I draw up from the well carries a poem.

This is from the prompt: How close do I stand to what is unfolding?

How Close Do I Stand to What Is Unfolding?

I can answer “so close”
as I tuck the towel beneath my chin
and create folds.

It’s true.
And my answer is untrue.

Because I build buffers into my day.

The chair I sit in as I work.
The notebook I lean into
as I sit in community with writers.
News avoidance as I focus on my here and now.
Routines to keep my butt in chair,
interruptions and unfoldings at bay.

I’m not unaware
that out there,
life unfolds,
despite my focused attentions
projects, words, and work.

Bits of my own life unfold without me.

Dad finds an independent living facility.
My oldest interviews for a new job.
The second child navigates editorial work, grants, and rows and rows to hoe.
And the youngest lives his best life with his best girl.

I’m not close.

And what a comfort that I don’t
have to be cozied up to
everything
that must unfold.

The whole world unfolds
whether I’m pressed against it or not.

Unfolding.
Changing.

We enter this life changing.

Nails and hair grow.
Bones harden.
Skin forms callouses.
Hair falls out.

We’re an unfolding miracle
to the end.

Beyond the end.

We’re not lost.
We don’t disappear.

Skin to dust,
we return to the earth,
we unfold
into the Earth.

Then more unfolding.

The dust of our bones
unfolds into roots
that seek nutrients,
branches that reach for the sun,
leaves that unfurl,
drink rain,
then shrivel brown to the ground,
and back to dust.

Unfolding.

How close am I?

I’m not close
and I am in the unfolding.

Close and far,
immediate and removed.

We are unfolding
without each other,
with each other.

And the unfolding gives me peace.

Puts me in my place and time.

Just a small spec in the universe,
a micronanosecond of the eras.

I stand obliviously close to
a greater unfolding

as I fold blankets and towels.

©Pennie Nichols. All Rights Reserved. 2026