A Ponder on the Gyres

Most everything wants to spiral

From snowflakes to galaxies;

I see it in the river's flow and

Leaves whipped from the trees;

Even my own hair wants to curl

Bending at sixty-five;

Why should it want such curvature?

I'm glad to be alive.

Our little Yorkie, Tobie,

Spins thrice as he hunkers low

To drop his little spiral terds

Upon the wind-spun snow.

Everything wants to circle

From hawks to hurricanes;

The whole earth gyres from night to morn,

Then spins it back again.

Nature adores a circle;

Her constellations reel

As season turns to season,

And bloom to apple peel.

And I who once whirled in all this change

Remembering, must bring it back again.

As I sense in the returning spring

The start and end of another ring;

As my own winter edges near,

I hail the spring to banish fear.

Gene Pinkney


Copyright 2006 Gene Pinkney
No quotes may be used without attribution