John Anderson Poet Tanka

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Quadrants of Being and Becoming

Time has its quadrants,
past, future, inside and out,
mapping how we think
Yet the mind drifts across lines
Taking off-ramps into dreams

Fourfold reflections—
reason, desire, memory
with emotion too
Each one hums a soft refrain
angled back towards ourselves

Seasons share one throne—
spring, summer, autumn, winter
each a sovereign reign
yet the wheel's perimeter
pulls the spokes to turn around

Lines divide what's seen
yet center and rim conspire
to keep the wholeness
so the wheel quadrants can spin
around a time-wound axis.

Each day holds four realms—
dawn, morning, afternoon, dusk
daylight in quadrants
in the arc the sun sketches
to divide the problem pie

Beneath these quarters,
a hidden thread is woven—
inner, outer selves
then the collectives we share
in culture, outer systems

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