Imagining


wheelWHEEL

I was given a long flexible stick

And told to make something useful.

As a traveler and hunter for my tribe,

I set out to complete this task,

But did the elders know what they asked?

A wheel can mark a hunter’s domain,

Marking the outer edge of his territory,

 an equidistance from the center point,

and keeping him close to home.

We were following buffalo, dear, and other game,

Dragging our tepees across the plain.

When wheels were attached to a cart,

They became an essential part,

Allowing the cart to travel smoothly

With a bigger load.

A small fire carried as a light,

Marked a circle around us and

Helped us find our way in the darkest night.

And as we were later told,

A wheel of light helped sailors

Stay away from rocky shore,

Crashing on rocks nevermore.

Later, when we had time to invent,

One man stationary at a center point while another walked,

Our tribe developed a sprinkling system,

Circular and precise, measured with string,

An easy way to keep track of everything.

But did the elders know how much we could learn

By inventing with a stick, twine, and imagining?

June 27, 2017

Advertisements

A Lot in Common


A square fell in love with a circle,

Their areas were much the same,

But they didn’t quite fit together,

She thought he was playing a game,

 

He thought she was perfect in every way,

Although conversations never seemed to end,

His life had been filled with corners,

He was still rigid and refused to bend,

 

They had a lot in common,

And they often shared a task,

But she refused to give up Pi or the radius guy,

She said that was too much to ask,

 

She had dreams of a world unseen,

While he took a more narrow view,

It was an ill-fated love that didn’t mesh,

So what could either of them do?

The Center of the Circle (Parts 2and3)


The Center of the Circle (Part 2)

Another
dream that was equally strange,

Featuring
horse hunters on the range,

Who would
chase wild horses,

Along several
well devised courses,

Groups of
men hidden along the way,

Would Jump up and turn the horses away,

Rerouting them
back into the herd,

When directions
changed, confusion occurred,

The leaders
frantic as the circle tightened,

The mares
and colts terribly frightened,

The horses
driven into a box canyon,

Where there
was no place to run,

Some brave stallions
turned to fight,

But rifles
fired, killing them outright,

The mares
more docile, were left to live,

They could
be valuable, their lives to give,

They would
be mated with donkeys for sturdy offspring,

Their colts,
as mules, much money they’d bring,

And any
other young horses that hung around,

Would be
auctioned off at the nearest town,

There must
be meaning that I could derive,

Why did
these dreams return and thrive?

The dreams
were becoming progressively vivid,

I was angry
at myself, absolutely livid,

But the meanings
to the dreams was still concealed,

There was
more to come before they were revealed,

Foxes were
the focus of my next dream,

But the
center of the circle was still the theme,

Foxes were
the target of a killing spree,

These poor
creatures became the enemy,

A circle of
men, women, and children five miles wide,

Decided to
give the foxes no place to hide,

With sticks
and clubs they entered the woods,

Yelling and
baying, as loud as they could,

Tired and
frightened, the foxes ran to and fro,

As they
quickly found there was no place to go,

The angry
ones would snarl and try to fight,

The sticks
and clubs would be their last sight,

Those that
gave up in utter despair,

Were also
clubbed right then and there,

The circle
tightened as the men closed in,

There was no
hope for the foxes within,

Closer,
closer, with enemies all around,

The
remaining foxes simply lay down,

The center
of the circle became their end,

Pummeled
with clubs by children and men,

(To be
Continued)

The Center of the Circle (Part 3)

What did all
this have to do with me?

Was there
some kind of vision I needed to see?

There was
one more dream, a warning I guess,

For this
dream caused me much stress,

Patterns
repeated in dreams before,

Gave me a
look at what was in store,

Unrecognizable shapes, I couldn’t see their
faces,

But they
were waiting in predetermined spaces,

My dream
wasn’t clear about who or when,

But I could
feel the trap closing in,

I had
learned lessons from watching the past,

If I had a
chance, I had to act fast,

Running to
freedom might not be the cure,

But in the
center death would be sure,

In a state
of panic what a scene it could be,

Fighting
each other rather than the enemy,

From my
dreams I knew I could not appease,

The circle
would tighten, all life would cease,

If I acted
now I had one slim chance,

To escape
and stir others from their trance,

That’s when
I woke from this nightmare,

And
considered what was and wasn’t there,

The center
of the circle is with us now,

They’re relentlessly pushing us inward somehow,

Climate changes, terrible storms, nowhere to turn,

Inward we go, the truth to discern,

They’ve watched our patterns and learned so well,

They’re waiting for the right moment, only time will tell.

 

The Center of the Circle


Resident (fish-eating) killer whales. The curv...
Image via Wikipedia

The stories
in nature are never complete,

There are always lessons that will repeat,

From the
past, the present, and eons beyond,

Patterns
develop from plans once spawned,

 

From visions,
I’ve seen truths and facts,

Comparing
man and beast in gruesome acts,

Animals in
nature out of necessity must kill,

While mankind
often does it for the thrill,

 

Yet in my
dreams the circle’s center,

Becomes the
place where I enter,

And the
visions I see are all askew,

Gruesome,
deadly, but nothing new,

 

In my deep dark dreams I could see,

Killer
whales and their strategy,

Orcas, the
wolves of the sea,

Driving
their prey to its destiny,

 

Penguins or
seals, whatever the prey,

Onward pushed,
none allowed to stray,

Eager to
escape, but they stayed tight knit,

To the group
they had chosen to commit,

 

But the pod
of orcas tightened the noose,

Turning
their prey inward, not one turned loose,

The orcas
continuing their relentless chase,

Until the
matriarch gave the signal to end the race,

 

There was no
waiting, no time to pause,

Into the
center slashed hungry jaws,

A feeding
frenzy with victory won,

Patience
rewarded, the pod moved on,

(To be
Continued)

Up ↑