Symmetric About a Wonky Axis

Our lives,
though they do at times seem tangled,
frazzled and chaotic and unmatched,
are symmetric about a wonky axis,
curving and veering and returning and nearing 
and ever in order, that is,
from the current perspective.

I'm happy to live on a line like that,
weaving through other people's lines and such.
It's delightfully confusing and it makes me wonder,
wasn't there a plan?
at one time? a direction, a vector of sorts?
But it's more like a wave,
like a field of directions,
crossing and merging and
but never impacting.

Never impacting,
and I guess that's the reason we live like this
without knowing, without planning,
without thinking.

So as I waft in this obvious direction
with no clue as to whether or where I'll continue,
I know at least that however far away I pull from you,
I will with equal and opposite tenacity
launch back towards you, and
you to me.

And perhaps in this knowledge I can relax my fears
and follow this axis of ours
to its logical end.
Whatever that would mean within this metaphor.

The End

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