BECOMING

There is always resistance to change,
the pursuit of perpetual growth,
becoming being like the moon’s
relentless phases as night gently
prints itself on world.

Soft rain falls like new thoughts
on fields dancing with spring.
What was there before and gone
is becoming once again.

Clouds drop flushed notes
on the vapor of the air,
bubbles over river pebbles
form, break, and form again.

Becoming is a song not yet heard,
melodies promising wishes  of
unknowingness.

Becoming lies just under that
thin layer of life, those infinitely
precious seconds before what is
to be.