Fluctuation

I sat on the balcony of my room, and stared up at the sky. For the longest time tonight.

I watched the sun disapear into the ocean, and the mountains melt into shadows. 

Have I ever been, entirely still?

I don't know. 

It rains here. Every afternoon. And when the storm clouds clear, the hummingbirds visit the tree that engulfs my perch. 

They shift their weight and dart in and out of the blooms, stained deep purple.

Have they ever been, entirely still?

I don't know. 

My mind hasn't been my own, since I arrived in Haiti.

There's too much.

That's changed.

And too much, that's stayed. 

Exactly the same. 

Is God ever, completely still?

Or is everything- always.

In constant motion.