She Turns

The world turns

turns and turns

knowing nothing but itself

remembering the waves,

the wind,

the light and dark,

the hour folding into the hour

She listens

to the rise and fall,

to the forces we cannot name

the tug of unseen hands

the currents that move us,

that create us,

that diminish us

She turns

unknowing of time,

uncaring of grief,

the voices that do not rejoice,

the voices that do not speak

The world turns for those

who move with her

folding, spinning, stretching

she does not intervene

but she will leave you behind

if you do not turn

Patterns emerge

dissolve

repeat

there is balance,

and there is also not

the thin line separating it all

slips under our feet

It is exhausting

yet the quiet knowledge persists

that she keeps turning

that she carries all things

the waves, the wind, the light, the dark

the rise and fall,

the currents we cannot name

She turns through storms we cannot weather

through silence that has no ear

through shadows that cling like memory

and still, in motion,

everything is connected

what rises meets what falls

what is made touches what is undone

what is lost bends back to the turning

And still she turns

without judgment, without pause

carrying the weight of what has been

and the shape of what will be

We may falter, we may fall

but in her turning, we are held

we are moved

we are never still

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