The only constant
Never ceases or rests
Takes away the familiar
Puts askew memories
Rearranges the trees' hair
Plants mismatched flowers in the fields
Tears down abodes a twig at a time
Patient as the earth is old:
It can lift up a mountain range, in a millenium
It can scoop out a hollow, swallow entire civilizations
In just a few more.

On breezy days, a million voices keening
The same lullaby that sings us to sleep,
Is the noise of capricious demolitions in the forest
The noise of a sea coast being spirited away in the night
Great cathedrals being excavated beneath us
Oceans ever rising and falling like a cosmic stock market
And there is even time left over
For playing musical chairs with clouds
And tickling laughing children
Who still think they can run away from it.