Afloat

I’ve lived a lot the last four years,
encountered many changes
but still must question if I’ve really grown;
maneuvering throughout the tiers
that consequence arranges
will oft supplant the seeds we should’ve sown.

Another revolution sparks
a searing revelation:
assembled wicks are nothing but a blink.
Accumulated static arcs
with one determination—
those that fail to tread will slowly sink.