Monday, May 28, 2012


Stillness,  unmoving,  immutable.

Sitting on the back of a motorbike
Going 100 km an hour
Leaning in as the resistance is great.
And the wind is tugging.
Trying to tumble us.

And yet,  what I am is still.
Does not move.

The world  is passing by.
Swallowing up.
Scene after scene.
Coming and disappearing again.

Seen by what I am.
All moves in me.