The stars are moving away
From the moving clouds,
All movement mesmerises
Stillness too if it is the sky
Or mind when no thought arises,
The stork is a study as it awaits
The chosen fish at its feet
Movement could be death
Stillness could be death too
When the predator is too close,
Time is predator and prey
Movement is distance, is time
How far is the same as how long
We find ourselves in the same place
Did we move at all or chose to be still?
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