Perpetual Motion

The earth moves in mysterious circles – unseen the hand of rotation; as seas and their content pushed by tides both great and small, even on the calmest day, true rest an illusion within ripples – freedom a debatable subject, no ship sailing beyond its shores – the mystic believing each of us attached to a star: surely there are enough for all...including those having perished throughout the ages in the glare of light and the shadows of dark... little seems fixed as if permanent – yet nothing passes without leaving behind its echos – mine is poetry.....