Winds of Change?

The whirlwind swirls:
I ride the coiling winds
Around the hollow core;
Flying off frequently
Into nettles on the verge
Or quicksand by the water,
I am, at other moments,
In magic-seeming meadows
Redolent with flowers
Riotous in scent and color
Decorating loneliness
Rather than serenity.

Rousing, I throw myself
Again into the vortex,
Rejoin the reassuring buffeting,
The enveloping pleasures
And constricting turmoil.

Having lost my perpetually sought path,
My road to meaning
Hidden in the tumult,
I ricochet through possibilities,
Jostle against necessities,
And trail beckoning
Attractions and distractions
Through another day, another month,
Through all my years.

So far.