Tai Chi Straight Sword Love



So it goes, rolling,
Rolling with such great force
In bursts of energy - like waves
That go. When seeming that the
Force fades, dies, there comes

So it goes, rolling,
Rolling and gathering speed
Like the runaway cart down
The slope. Then the wind!
As if seeing for the first time
The cart, like a frightened
Old maid, picks up her skirts and runs
Howling, down the road!

So they go, rolling,
Running and filling the air
With the ringing screeches that
Express fear and anger, shouting,
"Stop! Stop!" while the waves
Continue to roll; the awesome and
Terrifying rumble of cartwheels
Upon the rugged surface.

So they speed, rattling,
Racing, the howls and thunder
Heightening, as if in fear of being
Drowned out by the other. Then
Suddenly, a loud
Crash! It splinters on the rocks,
And the maid, stunned, sinks down
Into her skirts in silence. But you know
She thinks, "All is lost, all is lost."

But in the distance is heard
Rumblings - one, it seems, that had
Always been there, unnoticed in the
Howls, now growing louder; a different,
Steadier rumble. You turn just for a
Moment, to see the train passing on the
Cliffs above, then back, starting with
Surprise! It had not really died!
There - rolling, and the wind fluttering
Her skirts as if nothing had happened.

So it goes, rolling,
Rolling in a new wave as the
Memory of the old rolls out.