IT's

I’m a student of it, I study it’s effects, I watch with great intent, it’s my mother, it’s my father, it’s my surroundings, it moulds with a whisper, it banishes without provocation, it looks into the darkness, it lays my soul on a slab, it follows the breeze, it creates the wind,
It has always been.

Bent by the forestay, curved by its energy, pushed by desire, kissed by the pain, hurled by a thought, hit by its obviousness, smiled by it all.

Lifted upon a whim, soaring in it’s light, drawn to it’s flicker, coloured by it’s idea, thrust into it’s sight, sped in it’s slumber,
washed over it’s frustration, impaled in it’s splendour, caressed by it’s reflection.

It is me – I’m here.