Makara

Oh you thought this was a poem about
the clear sea and the
bright sky and the
road winding out to rejuvenation.

How escaping things just
’opens you up’ again.
No –
This is just a poem about going.

We can’t wait for clarity to come.
The world burns and rises again.
And time, well, it just keeps going.
All we can do is move with it.