Compostie Still

Oh, to stop,

Just for one moment

Not just in action but in essence 

Our bodies may be still, and perhaps our minds as well

Yet we still will never experience-

The static shock of life

Even in death, the building blocks that make up man dance

Not an elegant waltz but a convulsing riot

But this chaotic mosh, when all put together, creates the composite still in which we abide

We dwell just out of reach of the potential storm inside 

Perceiving all as still while their fury makes up our lives

The scale of the matter is our shield, keeping us in ignorant bliss

Thus we are scarcely disturbed by the violence of our static self