Here we, in our impatience of the steps,
Get back to the beginning of beginnings —
Some say existence like a Pirouette
And Pirouette, forever in one place,
Stand still and dance. It is time,
Strength, light, life — that spins
To nothingness — and save some
Strange resistance in each of us
That works on our behalf. As if regret
Were in it, and it were sacred.
Our life runs down in sending
Up the clock. The brook runs
Down in sending up our life.
And there it something sending up the sun.
marchsparrows 