Directional Drift

By Al Konda

The room remained, yet lines began to spread,

No longer held within a single course;

Each path still moved, though not where once it led,

And turned apart without a change of force.

 

We moved as though the way no longer met,

No turn returned to meet another line;

Each step went on, and did not intersect,

But held its course in calm, untroubled time.

 

No shift appeared to mark a loss or gain,

No sign arose to name what had grown;

The space remained, yet did not hold the same,

Though all continued as it had begun.

 

It moved apart, and did not turn or stay,

Each path proceeding in its separate way.

---

When movement no longer follows the same direction

There are moments when movement continues—

but not in the same direction.

Nothing breaks.

Nothing resists.

Nothing announces the change.

And yet, what once moved along the same course

begins to turn.

Not sharply.

Not visibly at first.

But enough that alignment no longer holds.

Each path continues.

Each step proceeds.

But what once followed the same direction

now traces a different line.

No force causes it.

No decision marks it.

It simply occurs—

as movement takes on its own direction.

And from that point on, what continues

does so apart.

🎬 Watch it on YouTube: https://youtu.be/2HVAznkTPks

---

© Al Konda · The Poetry Elite