Parallel Motion
When movement doesn’t meet
Things still move.
But they don’t meet anymore.
Not because something is wrong—
but because nothing connects.
Everything continues.
Just… separately.
Read the full poem and analysis tomorrow 12th: https://alkonda.com/2026/04/12/parallel-motion/
© Al Konda · The Poetry Elite
A glimpse of what comes:
Parallel Fields
The light extended, evenly inclined,
Two beams advanced along their measured arc;
Each held its angle, perfectly aligned,
Yet never merged nor altered where they passed.
No current drew them closer or apart,
No ripple crossed from one to touch the other;
Each wave proceeded by its separate part,
In silent tandem, neither one nor other.
No horizon narrowed what they traced,
No shadow fell between their steady courses;
The sky remained, and neither path erased
What simply traveled on its own resources.
They passed through distance neither gained nor lost—
Each beam continued, neither joined nor crossed.