You are the whooshing woman
spewing out idea after idea,
in a boardroom meeting full of men,
who pay big bucks for your easy genius.
Your constant shhhhh,
remains the greatest reminder
to stand silent,
it is the wind of your water,
that carries fish to a new life
or the waiting beak of a gull.
And as your water topples to the side,
you become nature's velvet curtains
forever drawn to hide secrets
never meant for human consumption,
it is there, where you declare victory
over the paradox that is earth.
Has anyone ever told you
your movement is your stillness?
Your calculated charm of "go"
provides anchor to the
nebulous change of man.
Sometimes I can hear
you in airplane cabins
and in evening traffic,
when I am really trying hard
to return to nature.
But most of all I hear you in relation,
between two hearts beating with purpose,
within a rapturous conversation
about human chemistry.
I'll admit, I have tried to carry you,
but you are too slippery when wet,
and you are always bursting with
significant moisture.
