Foraging through lists is a constant reminder
of the haphazard as well as the fulfilled.
The transitory reclaims reality in a circle of tenacity,
yet only the beginnings of momentum.
Life moves forward marking minutes in its path,
and days on the calendar revealing the prophecy;
written in hieroglyphics in the clouds, floating yet everlasting.
Destiny forever fixed in a sky filled with vapor,
like driftwood washed up on a beach to be resurrected,
recycled and reclaimed.
A sculpture created by the sea.
A mirror of the universe,
set in the sand, grafted together.
Intertwined with the proximity of the future;
contained in the lists;
perused and pursued forever.
An entity as one.