It’s nice
When the spinning
Becomes circling

When the urgency
becomes flowing action

It’s nice when that spinning stops
When it is no more
When it just fades off
Somewhere…into the somewhere…

I spin less now
And yet there are times
Inside my stillness
That the Big Mouth comes calling again
And the yelling begins again
And I’m off to spin and spin and spin

Until my eye catches a leaf swaying in the breeze
Or my ear catches the song of a mourning dove
Or my lungs catch a breath
Or my body just reaches up for the sky

And I settle once again
Into a quiet
Into resting softly on this spinning Earth
Having let it all go into the somewhere
And the Somewhere is all that I am.