The light seems brightest when it’s so close to the shadows…
The wheel turns, and if we don’t turn with it, our pasts, futures, stories, histories, all tumble away, all become grist, and then dust, moving in gentle chaos, blown to oblivion.
This place hits like a drum
and we march
our feet stamping out polyrhythms
stretched across its taut surface
and we feel its tremors as we move
this place hits like a drum.
This place beats like a heart
and we move
flowing in and out through its passages
guided by the current and each other
we don’t pause or we’re lost
this place beats like a heart.
This place sings like a bird
and we listen
sometimes hearing glimpses of a line
carried on the wind, a gap in the clouds
we stop, strain, and forget
this place sings like a bird.
This place breathes like a beast
and we feel
streets rising and falling beneath us
shifting across tides of time
we wait for its lidded eye to open
this place breathes like a beast.