Cataclysmic cloud of color,
of racing people rushing
through the pulse of a passing moment.

She escapes them all by
claiming stillness at the center for herself.

The faces fade, features
blurred to distorted colors, neon, pastel.

The turn of their bodies become
elongated brushstrokes,
the luminescent details of petaled flora
in a breathing oil painting.

From within her garden of cosmic fire,
she renders the strange world, safe.