STORM WARNING

For a moment
A generational Gyre
Is evident:
Ages tumbling down
To just Yesterday

It seems.
All is aswirl
In the Turmoil
In which we fall
And Blithely call Life…

Catching glimpses
Of the past
Within the tiny dramas
Of our
Unravelling.

Or, Imagining a Future
In Details that will
Be forgotten
In the Tumult
Of Time

Where the granular
Collapses
Into the impenetrable
Clouds
At the still Center.

But the Storm moves on.
We, but particles at Play
Within it.
Its Purpose Unknown
It’s Path Mysterious.