Change Chanteys

A surfeit of directions,
All directions, all at once,
Is, comically, mistaken

For a lack of direction.
History will not sit still
For its conservationists,

Nor hold to forward motion,
However forward’s defined,
Forever either. Change waves

In all directions, and waves
Change their directions. Short lives
Sometimes surf the swells until

They vanish under the spray,
And it can seem waves themselves
Will pound forever, the same

Shapes moving in the same way,
But you know it’s not like that.
You can settle in a trough,

Or rise on a crest, or find
Yourself becalmed in vast flats
Beyond your strength to shake them,

But you will never go back
To the previous waves, will
Never progress forever,

Never rest in the same place.
You know that. You know that, but
You chant it, just to stand it.