Inside the Random Patterns Form

Remember the day we drove to, 
was it Big Sur,
when a sudden sandstorm 
assailed us.
What was once a beach rose up 
and battered us.
It felt for a moment as if a random force
would shear away our skin.
We squeezed between giant boulders for shelter―
and we laughed.
Surmountable threats almost a joy, then.
I keep going back to it now, 
the day we walked into a blast 
of mad particles
yet imagined ourselves polished smooth 
as a soapstone.
I’ve read that 99.99% of the body is atoms.
What is a thing but a congregation?
It’s true that lately I digress, 
which is to say 
my thoughts float loose in my mind
then slowly form into words.
Each day the world falls further into chaos.
Yet we cohere.