All alike and none the same,
Frail as flake and fast as flame,
Randomly we dart and skim,
Indulging every quirk and whim.
Here it’s chaos, freedom, fun,
Not all for all, but one for one;
There it’s order that you see,
Pristine fractal mystery.
Frail as flake and fast as flame,
All alike and none the same.
Finally! The sun broke through,
To warm the ground and dry the dew.
I’ve been living on the wing,
Sulking through this soggy spring.
Now at last the clouds have quit:
A perfect time to bask a bit.
You’ve been hunting dragonflies;
Well, here I am. Come feast your eyes.
What play of light could match the shimmer
Of an intact Twelve-Spotted Skimmer?
Poised and primed in every sense,
Frozen in the present tense,
Hours on end, no angst or worry;
No fish running? Fine. Why hurry?
Hunting by this sodden shore
Is nothing that I’ve done before.
Each time, from the day I hatch,
I clear the slate and start from scratch.
And every day I prowl these brakes
With no remorse for old mistakes.
The past has never troubled me yet.
I never brood. Call me an e-gret.
Danger! Panic! What was that?
Fox? Raccoon? Coyote? Cat?
Shutterbug’s allergic sneeze?
Or just a ripple in the breeze?
Alarm, alert, alas, away!
(We do this countless times a day.)
I and you, and you and I
Can’t seem to part, for all we try.
Landscapes change and visions alter,
Commitment flags, intentions falter,
Youthful plans and dreams don’t last,
Ironies fall thick and fast,
Obstacles disrupt our flight,
We weather stubbornness and spite,
Dreams are dashed and bubbles burst,
Time and distance do their worst.
Yet as we were, so are we now:
Far from the flock, and joined, somehow.
I can’t begin to tell you why,
Save: you are you, and I am I.
