Around and Around

a poem

         These are some pretty intense times. A poem seems in order.
  

image by Jacyln Paige

                                                              It doesn’t begin
                                                                      or end.
                                                                    It circles.
                                                                   It's an eye
                                                              that either sees
                                                                   or dreams.
                                             It's wind blowing against your face
                                            pulled from somewhere else, unseen
                                                 an inbreath, a cleansing force.
                                              All those leaves flicking shadows
                                                                into the light
                                                            are merely saying:
                                                                      like this.

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