Adrift

I sat in a dank and crowded room
with a man of wisdom and words
who drew parallels between

the searching and the saved
a delicate conversation
over cups of coffee and

tips left in clinking change

he took his pen and with
the same stroke
created a circle atop a circle

atop a circle

with each rotation
I somehow some way
saw some thing

varied

as he narrated a world
and history belonging to him
and also to no one

a separate sea
coming together to save them

there was no difference between time
and energy
the lines ran their course

linking between motion

a living body of text
that would guide a people
for years spanning
a thousand and more

sacred paper
dictating a prologue
to the birth of humanity

adrift on seeds floating
through the sky and
scattered throughout
the fields

the ceaseless crops
of newborn hope