The Earth rotates at a speed of 1,037 miles per hour;
our sprinting is like marching through an ocean of molasses
for a world never ceasing in movement.

Our changes feel sudden
when so comfortable floating in stagnant waves
and pulling on worn-out boots.

But our changes happen so fast
in context with Earth’s orbit around the sun.

The hour we spent dancing under the full moon —
tee shirt-clad and glowing —
was merely a blink of an eye to Earth’s revolution.

Our neurons, like Earth,
move quickly,
making sense of each situation
before we have a chance to consider what is happening.

I wonder if that’s where my dips come from,
not the dips in my hips
with their violin shape,
but the mental dips.

When the darkness consumes like a black hole,
inhibiting the warmth, the joy;
taking away the shimmering;
and leaving a blank landscape.

Maybe my brain knows more
than it lets on,
gathering information
as fast as the Earth spins on its axis.