MOVE

I move in spite of my surroundings,
a wanderer immersed in lies,
I stop to gain direction and compass,
but I am left with nothing.

I move,
to gain breath,
I see,
clearly I am seeing now,
and if my voice cries out,
even though the shore is still distant,
God still hears me… Maybe…

Or,
God may screen my calls,
God may place me on ignore,
waiting for the celestial search results from Google.

All nature must conform,
All of creation must be co-opted and secured,
So my movements bring nothing.

I move despite God or gods,
I move to spite the gods,
I move away from the Devil,
I move because I have no choice.

I move and the moving changes everything.