The Ever-Searching Amnesiacs
Feeling flows like birds aflocking
Hands are moving, ticking tocking
Slowed down movements warp this walking
Waves of wind consume you
Sand dunes fall and form again
Temporal mountains erase and ascend
The wind of the body and breath of the land
Informing granular nothing
Reaching out and pulling back
Its edges flow and never crack
An ever-searching amnesiac
Returning to itself
You cup your hands and try to hold
What’s never new and never old
Your grasp an insufficient mold
A trite and fruitless effort
A soft rain comes to meet the ground
Each drop adds to the growing sound
The many lost again are found
Returning to themself
Starlings flutter up in the sky
Flowing falling flying high
Their perpetual attempt to unify
a continuous shift in pattern
A deafening moan erupts from the clouds
Its resonance carries a message avowed
A scarred white body comes from the shroud
The leviathan’s here to feast
Moving forward mouth held agape
No hope for exception or for escape
A core of bird lost and forced to reshape
Filling the spaces between
The newly formed flock falls into the sea
The whale follows close a cold guarantee
That all that exists as separate and free
Must soon return to itself
Posted Oct 16, 2018, 10:10 PM UTC · edited