A Snapshot While We’re Moving

Here, there and everywhere — all at once and little by little

Photo by Ahmad Odeh on Unsplash

There is movement inside the stillness,
perpetual motion in particles and waves
even as the force that temporarily propels
sputters, coughs, runs out
of metaphysical soul fuel
on the great interstellar highway of life.

There are worlds with lightspeed highways,
and worlds where access roads never got built.
Ours is a world where respected scientists
crunch numbers both madly and with precise focus,
bent on going somewhere new before it gets here first.
This world, the one we’re born into,
is nowhere near where it used to be
but still moves in reliably calculable patterns
— let’s call that a miracle; let’s call that a gift.

Artists keep returning to drawing boards
to capture or create that one authentic still life
so perfect that it moves us without moving,
a flower staying put, just so, never wilting,
so that we, the onlookers,
awestruck in our autonomic breathing,
might find a way to keep growing,
naturally…