this river flows
drifting through currents
changing like a switch of a light
soft patterns of silk blanket the sky
picked up and buried alive
like thunder and lightning
sailing against time
waiting
seeking
finding nothing but tomorrows seconds running beside
haste is empty through the eyes
and we fish for keeps
nothing is everything
and everything is nothing
the best words are to dream
and the sun will pick us up like feathers into the sky
where we slip away
and go against this tide