Oh what tangled webs we weave…

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A vacuum is filled when new air rushes in
The old air pumped out under pressure.
Light is snuffed out as it fights for a breath
Until oxygen finds a new fissure.

So where is my air?
What replaces the old –
The old me
The one who flew high?

A new gas diffuses,
Drifts over my head.
I breathe in, look about and swoop free.

Where once I dreamt numbers and analysed law
I now click and i stick and stitch that
But evolution is something that’s true
A way to control all this change.

I adapt to survive:
Live too, Love mine! Be me,
So alter my focus and drive.

The speed of that change is of course way too fast.
I would slow it all down to a stop.
But that kind of control isn’t open to me
So I go with the flow, but as me.

Others watch as I breathe,
Marvel at all this change,
Say it’s great, really cool, a la mode.
Of course what they can’t see
Clear as day, well, to me
Is I change, not to change, to keep up.

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One Comment Add yours

  1. Broderick says:

    You’ve got this form nailed! Awesome poem about the spurtiiality of the sea. I’m by the sea right now- such an awe inspiring place- so thought provoking, and like your great poem- makes us reflective and glad to be alive

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