The Maelstrom Inside a Ring of Desire
From the maelstrom inside
the ring a rose of fire-pit
We blindly stoke in order to
create , make and turn
Grains of sand we can then
metamorph into such
magnificence and finery like
Toy marbles for children with
kaleidoscopic eyes trapped
inside to play with
And on a even grander scale
Windscreens aboard a shuttle
rocket so astronauts can see
and plot safe passages ahead
To clouded frosted mystical
crystal ball's so fortune teller
Can relay to all of us what
danger lies ahead in all ours
future's
When alas rather instead we
choose to waste our time
burying our heads in said sand
Than making far better
use of whatsover time we
find ourselves having
being lucky enough to
be blessed with
Like proving something
as dank and dark as sand
Can with a minimum amount
of effort and a little help
eventually become
Something as transparent
and far more beautiful
As a crystal chalice exuding
the colour of a rainbow
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