Rising

Arising to fall,
was it ever at all?

the glass house,
the broken window,
the pavement now a garden
bursting through the asphalt,

the tiniest bud of a new branch
emerging out of 
the huge expanse of trunk

oh little, little one,
the marble rolling across the floor,
you know not where you go...

could it be a dent in the floor
arrests your travel?
or perhaps the tiniest pebble,
or an ant...

isn't it funny
we give ourselves titles,
positions,
and just watch
as the waves roll in
and out,
the rug is removed for cleaning...
and never returns

was it ever so,
was it was ever really so...?

watch