Adapting to new waters

The art of breeding perfection


To survive we adapt,

We twirl into new forms,

To withstand the wind,

To bounce with the buoyancy of life,

Sometimes it’s painful,


The energy required to morph into these shapes,

Sometimes it takes us by surprise,

Perhaps we don’t know ourselves,

Perhaps we didn’t realise what a fragile form we hold,

Mostly we come through,

A different being,


The mirror greats us with a different coat,

But there are still traces,

Flickers of the past,

Those ebony eyes still stare back,

Amongst the change,

They are familiar,

They give us comfort that not all has changed,

In the non-stop,

We still cling to that flimsy anchor,

We try to reach equilibrium,

Because even though we are not afraid,

We long for security,

Until one day,


The water reflects back an altered being,

And what a beauty,

Such perfection!

And we realise that after years of twirling,

And growing,

Adaptation has begot a sage.

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