The Vortex

I see it coming down the road,
A small speck of whirling dervish.
As it gets closer,
I see the whirl and the colors
And I am curious.

The vortex looms before me,
And I see the whirl and the colors
And I am enamored.

And just for a moment,
I am caught up by the outer whirl of the vortex
And I whirl around
And excitement turns to fear and to horror.
There is no stopping, no calm, no stillness to embrace.
There is the movement that goes faster and faster.
The only purpose of the vortex is to keep moving
As quickly as possible.

Without the constant movement,
Faster and faster,
It is nothing.

I creep to the outer edge of the vortex
Going faster and faster.
I slip out.
The vortex is unchanged, because it moves only for itself.

And the vortex moves on,
Catching up everything in its path.

And I am safe now,
Standing still.



© 2019 Rebecca Burrington