Still Motion

The wheel goes ‘round.
Forwards.
Forwards.
Mankind’s contraption moves.
And everything is spinning.
I am a spoke on the wheel.
Singular. Individual.
But connected to life’s motion.
The wheel goes ‘round.

Catches.
Pause ||


Suspended in an instant. Afloat. Lifted by luminosities.
On the eve of change. No change. But promised change.
I feel so alone. Spinning.
But whole. Still.
I am part of the world.
And for a sacred illuminated moment, I feel it.

Slips.
Play >




Exhale.
FF >>


The wheel goes ‘round.
Spinning.
Forwards.
Faster.