Dancing on the Wind

You no longer see in landscapes.
More often than not, it is still life
that fills your vision, snippets of life,
caught by light and chance,
peace in the stillness, but lacking horizons.
You do not know why. Like so much
that has happened in your life,
it seems to have been outside your control,
a wrinkle in the universe perhaps,
or a God never content
to leave well enough alone,
everything around you changes
and you simply try to catch up,
try to see what is given to you to see
and make sense of it
while dancing on the wind
that moves it all.

About this poem

About seeing. About life. Poetry is never about one thing.

Tom