the subtle sway
on a darked say
of leaves and thoughts
tranquility not bought
nor found nor made
but unfolded
then it fades
like the flowers bloom
or midnight moon
like the inferno of my insecurity
or footsteps in a stairwell
fears rise and quell
but it all passes
in what
it amasses
but without form or feature
becomes your teacher
the ever-changing,
slightly deranging
a waltz, a tango
savored, a mango
or resisted, quicksand
do you open your fist
to reveal your hand
do you push and pull
against the tide,
eating when full
dead before died.