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





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