Float Off

How can the world change its face,
As if it were moon in clouds,

As if it were wind on waves,
As if it were coals of fire,

All of which it is, and yet
Seem such an as-it-is place?

How could our dire world feel dull?
It seems to have one law—change,

But change in each mote and shape,
Each small way a change could move,

As well as in each burst star,
Each black hole storm—large to small,

The world of change ticks them all.
With these words, some world floats off.