Lines 1–5

The opening sweep of "The Continuous Life" unfurls through an evocative rhetorical question. Such questions don’t seek answers but invoke reflection, often wielded by writers to subtly persuade without overt argument. Here, Strand sketches a nuanced tapestry of parent-child dynamics, where children seek signs of their parents' weariness in the paternal and maternal duties. The rhetorical inquiry is posed only to pave the way for its own resolution. Imagery like "children hunched in bushes" and "neighborhood homes" paints a broad canvas, resonating across various contexts and eras. By describing parenting burdens as "the swell of duty," Strand crafts a metaphor that avoids personal specifics, instead presenting archetypes that embody all parents and all children. The metaphor of "being adrift on a swell of duty" masterfully conjures the notion of parental responsibilities as an oceanic drift.

Lines 6–9

The poem’s narrator possesses a rare insight into the hearts of both the young and the old, narrating from a timeless vantage. Within these lines, he responds to his own query about the way parents ought to react as their offspring observe the passage of years. With a call for "confession," he suggests a previous lack of transparency. "Night" stands in for death, and the speaker advises parents to assure their children of the vitality still coursing through their veins, celebrating the simple joys of "household chores."

Lines 10–14

Here, the speaker implores parents to "describe" the significance embedded within mundane implements like "shovels and rakes," and the rituals of daily existence such as "cooking and cleaning." There is an infinitude in these tasks, the speaker contends. Life unfurls as a collection of such seemingly trivial moments. Parents are urged to "explain" the dualities of life and death to their offspring, portraying them as "two great darks, the first / With an ending, the second without one."

Lines 15–18

The poem’s tone, already a complex blend, deepens with nuance. The speaker offers a buoyant assertion, "The luckiest / Thing is having been born," countered promptly by the acknowledgment of living "in a blur." He encourages parents to impart to their children the conviction that this "blur," despite contrary feelings and evidence, holds intrinsic meaning.

Lines 19–22

A new directive emerges: "Tell the children to come inside." This signals the close of play for the young and the conclusion of toil for their elders. The speaker demands parents reveal their own uncertainties about the essence of life, their ongoing quest for understanding. The search for identity, exemplified by "a family album," underscores the lifelong journey of self-discovery and the pursuit of meaning despite the mirage of "getting there."

Lines 23–28

As the poem draws to a close, the speaker calls upon parents to concede their ultimate ignorance. "Business" and "languor" become virtues, resonating with "small tremors of love." Strand, as often in his works, suggests that humanity comprises myriad selves, spanning time—be it child, parent, or grandparent—and existing simultaneously in the moment. The poem encourages parents to convey to their children this multiplicity, alongside the acknowledgment that with age comes the same fears, anxieties, and desires that accompany change.