We,
the creaturely in the wheel
humbly come
bearing fruit and forage
signs and prayers, for some
still(ed)
We the creaturely, in the wheel
spinning like stars
drowned in celestial expanse
numerous we are,
a promised bemused bunch
We the creaturely in,
the wheel
not home nor hospitable
but alien grown akin
refugees tilted to stay
the ground lay
claim to our stakes
irrevocably driven too far, in wake
We the creaturely in the wheel,
creep and crawl
mine for reason
blind to panoramic views
peculiar little gods shuffling about
while the flowers
and the birds
and trees
quizzically wonder and shout.
image: Spinning Wheels