in an open field it’s easy to lose the one among the many
a drop of water can bend the light; imagine what is possible
we could try for days but never match what nature does in a minute
on the horizon there appears to be a threat we could ignore it
we huddle closer as the thunderstorm rumbles then release, relieved
in the pouring rain the city stops to listen until it passes
without a worry the purring cat is content asleep on my lap
time bends in small ways as if we each have our own event horizon
in the calm surface we see our world reflected and not the surface
each storm is unique but for one small exception they all blow over
uptown jack 