Surging up the burning tower
Trying not to look at what falls past
Or where it falls.
Follow the light source
Up through the center.

Feet buried in sand
Staring across a stagnant pond
While filling up the chalice.
Make some waves
And pour libations to the disturbance.

Fingers ache
Weaving power into form
Muttering mantra words.
Bless the weapon
That it may divine truth.

Cold water in the face
As high waves splash over the rail
Riding through the storm.
Lose a lifetime of baggage
To find safety past the rocks.

Deception in sight,
That which appears solid
Is vapor.
Believe in the fantastic
And see the simple.

Circles upon circles
The patterns repeat
With little variation.
Take joy in the details
The only movement forward.

Copyright © 1997 wendi loomis The Seasons Change