We know a tree by it’s branches
its leaves. The roots keep the center
upright. Even the bark defines, but
the center, the core, who knows?
After all it is the rings we count, not
that blank dot at the center.
In a wheel, the hub is a hole, the spokes
branching to the rim where work is done.
Everything happens on the edge:
the Left Wing, the Right Wing more
exciting than the center where all
are drawn but nothing happens.
The storm advances, high winds up front
the rain trailing behind, but the center
is empty, a moment of calm or
indecision, like when I sit, breathing
in, breathing out, my eyes closed above
my legs growing numb, my hands curved
in a mudra, my center quiet, empty.
Posts
6 comments:
Your last stanza calls to me, but without the indecision factor. When in such repose, I worry not about any of it. don't even consider that I need make a decision. Wait a minute... that's likely what you mean! Okay, so I'm slow on the uptake!
I like the second stanza. I think the core is already there in the seed.
I was just writing about a tree's center the other day... love the analogy here!
~laurie
I absolutely love this - from the center to the mudra...and back again. Wonderful work.
I really like this, especially "it is the rings we count, not
that blank dot at the center", and the part about storms.
What we know; what we don't know. Physical action; political action. Calm; indecision. Beautifully structured, a fine exploration of the center. Thanks for this.
Richard
Post a Comment