Each of us alone in our cell though
Clumped together in one multi-faceted, amorphous mass
Where for a time we dwelt before to the breeze cast
Embarking on journeys encased in translucent, multi-colored orbs

Autonomy the illusion, chaos the fact,
Drifting away at the mercy of forces over which we've no
Influence as much as we think we may.
Confluence and separation fight for control

Floating high, sweeping low, caught in the wind
No telling how far we may go, brothers and sisters
Reaching a pinnacle or staying low
Some proceed straight and true, others go nowhere

In time our numbers thin, winking out
Like so many aged bulbs in a theater marquee
Then there was one; soon there'll be none
Left pondering the puzzle of persistence

Copyright © Jim Ganley, All rights reserved

Printed here with express written permission from copyright holder