The God(ess/s) of Change, a poem

I bow down to the God(ess/s) of change

And move

Just before She tries to tickle my nostril with Their big toe

He laughs a big, dismantling laugh

To watch me become a cat hopping

From one collapsing roof to the next

Then falling as a silver fish

Belly flopping

Into a unsettled sea as it boils

They raise me up again

With a million star-tipped fingers

Shooting down from a black sky

Only to find they cannot grasp the island

I’ve become in the middle

Of a stormy ocean

The one with the last living so and so tree

And so I dissolve down deep

Where we can meet eyes to eyes

And there is no up from down

Nor anything to see except what doesn’t yet exist

And this makes us remember the absurdity

Of it All.