Rearranged

Somehow the stones

move at the beach.

Even though

they don’t float

Everyday the sea

Rearranges them

Rolling onto their backs

Spending time next

To someone new

Changing their view

Somehow the people

Take flight on earth

Even though they don’t

Have wings

Everyday the air

Rearranges them

Breathing in

Breathing out

Centering— yet flying

Changing perspectives

Spending time next

To someone new

By choice or by chance

Heavy on this earth

We are moved

moved by hearts

moved by minds

moved by spirits

We are rearranged by something

much larger than ourselves

Everyday just by

The weight of ourselves

Grounded; we float,

We fly