I wait upon the turning point
Dizzy and disoriented
By its rapid display
Of reality asway,
Believing the transformation will soon stop.
And if I can hang on tight,
And if I do not drop
All will then become clear.
A new way of seeing the world
And connecting its dots
Will unite us all in every endeavor.
Not because we are so clever;
But, because we must do better
Or destroy our selves,
Dust to dust.
Turning points are dizzying affairs.
We must grab hands to slow its course.
We must focus on a single point as we ride
In constant circles, growing wide,
Until the entire world bounces by
And we all feel the brunt of gravity
As it drags us down past reality
Where the vaguest hopes reside.
When will this end, we ask and fuss?
Knowing how it ends is up to us.
If only the spin would stop long enough
To catch a breath, I could get tough.
It is dangerous to let go when spinned out of control.
The spin disturbs the mindfulness which makes me whole.
If only those who stand and watch would reach to pull me out.
But, they hesitate and obliterate
Any discussion or action
until I fear it will be too late.
What will they think and how will they feel
To watch me destroyed on the spinning wheel?
annarino writes 