Cart-wheels in the Sky (edited re-post)

Poetics Aside Prompt:  Write a “Wheel” poem: of fortune, ferris, bike, auto – any kind of wheel. Even a big wheel and wheeling and dealing will do.

Dear little child, you don’t know it yet

A moment to you is simply a breath

A necessary means

To reach The Beckoning ahead

Moments spiral and gleam

A subtly disguised requiem

Wheeling through your thought

To the melody of a dream

You do not hear the rush

Of time moan in the autumn hush

Pushing to an ever-expanding hollow

Disguised by living’s underbrush

   Reels of pleasure and pain

Glimmer through Time’s ephemeral vein

Children become women and men

In its rising-falling refrain

Run, dear little child, run

Your intangible deliverance has begun

Into the vexing arms of life

And the jaws of the waning sun

Nay fly, dear little child, I say fly

Cart-wheel on clouds in a neon sky

Lest your Moment deflates

And your dream-well runs dry

© Janet Martin