If wind is a metaphor of illimitable change

through which appearances in existence of crumbling shadows

arising as so many dawns and dusks structured

with nothingness transformed into colors 

for moments and nothing else

buildings moved through paper

cast within history’s stream

of ticking clocks 

Adjusting to the adjustments of gravitational compaction

drawing substance dispersed to  a membrane of ever

itself a contingency in timelessness

events and space crashing before time

changes micro-data bits to things with wings.

The One is before and immediately for the appearances

standing upon eternity’s edge

every transcending beingness collecting the waters of time flowing with the amazement of change

reduced to nowhere.