Waves

Waves

Memories sift through a sorter held above a flowing stream

passing through tiny holes in synchronized motion.

Gravity carries the particle through space

until it encounters the water element.

The big shapes stand in the screen

the small ones continue

with the current's abundance.

Thoughts are small waves of quartz,

they may spiral to where ebbs and flows meet the old,

traveled souls.

Dreams are drops of rain

passing by.

One falls past your nose,

another lands on your skin, your hair,

cold seeps into clothes,

they leave Their mark, each one.

Rushing water somersaults over standing waves,

rotating rocks to completion.

Maturing matter.

Maturing mind.

Consciousness is concrete like electricity,

Lighter than rocks

but not the energy rotating around them.

Torsion in the outside.

Torsion on the inside.

- Danielle Kaschub