Perhaps it may turn out a sang,
Perhaps turn out a sermon.

-- R. Burns Epistle to a Young Friend

Friday, September 12, 2014

As The World Turns

He made the moon to mark the seasons;
the sun knows its time for setting.
You make darkness, and it is night,
when all the beasts of the forest creep about.
The young lions roar for their prey,
seeking their food from God.
When the sun rises, they steal away
and lie down in their dens.
Man goes out to his work
and to his labor until the evening.  -- Psalm 104:19-23

Cycles and circles,
So it seems,
Everywhere we look,
A sing-song sung
In the round
But I don’t know the hook.
Life on the circumference
A never-ending spin.
I just keep on running
To get back here again.
God, the truth, is hard to find
Living on the edge.
And with a touch of vertigo,
Some spin off the ledge.

The world still turns in the middle
But the trip is not so long
And we sooner solve the riddle
When we see where we go wrong.

As we move toward the center
It doesn’t change a thing.
Autumn falls from Summer,
Winter melts to Spring.
Yet somewhere in the swirling storm
Stands a calm and quiet I,
And sworn to that witness stand,
We may see and testify.


julie said...

Nice imagery, Mushroom. Thanks for sharing it.

mushroom said...

Thank you for reading it.

I tell you, our friend River has gotten so good at the poetry thing, it's a little intimidating.

USS Ben USN (Ret) said...

That is fantastic! Seriously! I kid you not.

mushroom said...

Thank you, Ben.