It changes constantly, fluid one moment
Choppy, jagged the next.
It is mesmerizing, never stopping.
Never the same shape twice.
Fierce, frightening, destructive.
A God of the Ancients,
It is trapped, harnessed.
Swirling in place on a bit of waxed thread.
With the absense of breath,
It is still, smooth.
Clean lines as steady as silence.
Pure energy looking like Time suspended.
One quick gust of air, and it's gone.
