Each day I wonder how different I’ll be from the last.
And it happens so gradually
It’s like watching water boil
But when it happens, it’s roaring.
And the heat carries.
Even if the source is snuffed
Even if the lid is lifted
And what once was water turns to steam in hot release
And by the time the pot has cooled,
It is empty.
And you’re left with only droplets on the ceiling.
The rest has swirled in air.
To find a way
To split apart
In spite of force and changing forms,
the atoms still exist.
And though each day I’m forced to change,
I am far more experienced.