The light reflects off the varnish;
The bird at the center
Does somersaults.
The hieroglyphs on the edge
Tumble and flash.
The Lazy Susan winks
But does not illuminate,
Spins but goes nowhere;
A point at its edge
Will travel much further
Than a point near its center,
And yet these two points will make
The same number of revolutions
In the short and silent lifetime
Of their little, wooden
Solar System.
And i, i sit in a cone of silver light
Astonished that this turntable
Would show me the
Way to peaceful resolution
Of my fevered dreams:
Move, but stay centered;
Spin and sparkle
But do not fly apart:
In this way
You will be
What you were made to be:
A cornucopian presence
At the center of life's table,
Revolving,
Revealing;
A stationary dervish,
A votive vehicle,
Turning
And returning
On one well-finished
Point.
--Mr. Gobley
1 comment:
oh! I love this.
"Move, but stay centered;
Spin and sparkle
But do not fly apart:"
...perfect.
Post a Comment