The Wheel of Time
Though we know the moon
not source, we snuggle to its cooler
light...at times
seeming more approachable,
less imposing,
more accepting
we heighten such sleep
inclined toward our own truth
we lather most all with a glazing
of soothing Lies,
politics our rule in void
in contrast to rightly being
juxtaposition
of body with soul~ the space between
(the opaque we frequent)
where
we live, at the edge of clarity, avoiding
in the shadow
before dawn, at dusk
where the oval turns to wear
on the treads of
the wheel of time….
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