swiftly astray

Perhaps by connecting words humans create sentences that inflate in unique formations depending on the mind and time. Evolving slowly and intuitively from a starting point, containing the memory of a certain quality of light, the words build in a process that moves toward an elegant unity and sense of purpose.

But maybe a poem without a reader is just ink, for as we watch the sun slide under the ocean we are reminded that reading the menu is different from eating the meal; that all is actually each -  colorful, energetic, and emotional - the river of living in full flood, and that even as we pause to scribble in wavering lines while fumbling for a foothold this haunting of eroding forms continues to assert hope and the possibility of survival.