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Circles

 


The bionic ball bearing rolls
smoothly in its universal cowl,
my speck on its crumpled skin revolves
inexorably slit-eyed towards the sun;
the embryo in its amniotic sphere
waits its turn to scream at circling day.

Heartbeats spinning out their daily din
thrust the crimson cycle of cells
into the whirling brain
whose minuscule corrugated orb
contains the Whole, the Universe,
the speck of dust upon a finger nail.

Seen from this snapshot moment
the future is sunset;
but later stars, rotating pinholes
in the black ball of space.

The planet swerves round unseen rings
on its dreary familiar orbit:
fine patterns swirl up time’s seed
that grows in fertile loops of thought,
the future spiralling behind.

 

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