a tiny wheel

And so, if the rain falls today
will the sun never more be seen?
Unlikely.

And if, in sudden fury
the snow bundles a spring day
is warmth forever lost?
I doubt it.

Or, should the ground look brown and barren
do we cry for lack of seed therein?
Of course not.

A tiny wheel within a tiny wheel within a tiny wheel.

Why then, the furrowed brow at circumstance
of strange motion?

Rest in the sunlight.
Abide in the wheel above the seasons.
Gently amused, and most kind.


Beth McCarthy Marks
1985