I am two flags blowing--two leaves on a bough
sometimes in sync, other times not
but beautiful all the same,
despite my changing shade.
And the contrast I seek is also ambiguous;
sometimes dark against light, sometimes pastel,
sometimes searching to stand out,
then blend in.
Louder and louder still, though moments pass
and I know that silence is just as complex.
I know that still silence cannot pass
without penetrating my soul.
Then I am shed like a worn overcoat--
shed like a sheep skin, like salt water from eye,
and then I miraculously continue on.
Flying and falling, flying then falling.