Cycles and Circles

So  much algae bloom:
strip of blue green singing to the sun.

Winter winds blasting
oceans into high mist against rocky
coastlines.

Still night air holding back time
in some vast oasis of dark silent space.
We are captured  in its presence.
Then moving on again.

So it is with life.

breaths in
and out

So consistent they become rhythmic
So invisible  as to be persistent.

Pattern.

Becomes

Always now.

We ride like blind champions.

Never, often, even becoming
aware of the presence.

It comes

and goes.

Sometimes early, sometimes late
depending on and compared
to our perspective.

Somehow we know
still we come.

We gather ourselves up

And toss ourselves across
the open shore.

Event horizon
calling us ever on

We come.

Breaths in
and out.