WHEEL
Is it a circle that I use to turn my self here? I am left behind As that wave of migrating consciousness Rolls toward the electric fence. In the essence of you is you Which is bigger than anything Of any importance. I get a small taste And it is finer than anything My mind has ever desired And gotten, or not gotten And continually wanted. Aware of the seasons And the moon's impact on that. Aware of the moon And the earth's impact on that. It is enough to just be aware. The rest of us sit in ritual-waiting Looking down each others backs As consciousness goes up in smoke. To be lost in repetitive motion Like a bicycle wheel spinning in space. Is it a circle that I use to turn myself here? It is all encompassing and cannot Be roped in. My mind is not fastened at the center with spokes. Is yours? Stephanie Lorentzen-Jordan