Why should the wheel

of perpetual change

seem so strange?

It’s only turning.

And if the cause

of all to each

Is to be taught,

and to teach,

Then I am learning.


I take pride in this invention,

It leaves a lasting impression.

The bone of my contention.

The essence of my confession.


My how the leaves

have greened

In ardent ardor.

Tooled and machined,

as Spring rains

fall harder.


Somewhere in the ambiance,

my heart waits in stillness.

A mystical science

that bids my heart fullness.

What vivid alchemy

wells within this sensation;

Like lightning inside of me–

an electrical creation.



Spring 1979

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