Motion

A Poem on Instability

Photo by Yash Raut on Unsplash

Everything moves

Motion is the most constant characteristic
Of all things

The specks of dust
Of which we are made
Vibrate
Spin
Rattle
Translate
Flickering in a perpetual state
Of Becoming

And the illusion of
Stability
Groundedness
Still leads us into error

Zeno shoots his arrow
Into the bounded infinity of space
inside the shell of an egg

We are condemned,
Or blessed,
Into a constant state of flight

Neither one thing
Nor the other
But a movement from the past into the future
And sometimes back again

We cling
Frantically
For a clod of earth
To stand upon
When both we
And the Earth
Are falling into the future

Since we all fall into the torrent,
Do not resist,
But learn to swim