Flux

I know the changes are coming. They've already started.

Sometimes I ride my lifeboat through the storms, feeling myself thrown about, sure I'm going to topple at any moment under the sheer power of the wind and waves. Every ounce of my being is focused on keeping myself upright, and most of the time, I come out unscathed.

Sometimes I ride my lifeboat through calm weather, dangling my toes overboard into the brine, basking in the sunshine as it passes between wispy clouds. And when I look up, I realize that I've drifted away from the dock when I wasn't paying attention because I thought I was secure.

And nights like tonight, I am somewhere in between. In flux. I am lazing away even as the storm approaches. I see the people on the shore, the ones keeping an eye on me, but I can't make out their faces. And when I finally come to rest, finally step foot on solid ground once again, I am always surprised who's waited it out for me and who's moved on.