Timelines need a new shape.
Circling The Sun
The orbit that we travel on keeps circling the sun.
A ball of mixed up elements into a sphere it spun.
Illusions of a timeline seem confirmed by night and day.
Aging in a pattern, seems we spin until we’re gray.
While we turn around-around the burning lustrous light.
We measure self-in linear ways, we think we have it right.
But How can life’s experience be narrowed to a line?
We cycle through the days we spend in circles known as time.
A line does not curve back again, the way that seasons turn.
Life occurs in orbits, in our hearts as blood is churned.
Round we go along the path of dusty, shielded earth.
Some people never think about what life is truly worth.
The logic is astounding and yet still so hard to see.
Maybe since the only view I have belongs to me.
Likewise, the connection from your eyes- to all you see,
belongs to only you — and it determines who you’ll be.