Wheel of Time

Looking to the east
nothing takes shape
in the grey sky,
light slowly rising
on the undefined.
Before the made
there is the void,
the emptiness
of what may be,
the womb of earth
awaiting seed
for the days ahead.
We rest without knowing
while the wheel of time
slowly turns our fate
dark bruised and wailing,
bright born to the morning.

 

 

wheel-of-time

Encaustic painting by Eilish Hynes


 


7 Responses to “Wheel of Time”

  1. David Banner says:

    “Before the made there is the void”””I love this poem as I contemplate our dear friend PenDell as he moves towards recovery…and how blessed he is to have such a great partner in Melanie…..so inspiring….AND thanks to Eilish for the lovely painting

  2. Lloyd Meeker says:

    Deeply in sync with this poem, Don. My prayer time today was filled with two questions — “What am I missing in my current vision of my creative field? What am I blind to, that would make sense of what I behold?”

    I feel the wheel turning, but have lost my visceral understanding of the cycle. Maybe it’s just the void present in a place where I expected to find something manifest.

  3. I love the phrase “wheel of time” reminds me of the Hindu three “gunas” ever spinning and running our consciousness.

  4. Patrick says:

    We seem to be on the same wavelength. Eagle faces the east – What courage to hold the space for the new to develop and birth. Cycles of death, birth and resurrection – each day a new beginning!

  5. Bill Gordon says:

    Your poems are always deep and never fail to move me. Great piece by Eilish!

  6. Tony Palombo says:

    With winter afoot, the fruits of the year’s creative work harvested and blessed – offered up to the One – your poem is timely. This season’s void is a dark and deep one. I had an ugly dream last night, fetid, base, nasty. Eruptions out of the subconscious pushed out by what awaits to be born come Spring . . . “the emptiness of what may be.” Thanks for framing it all so poetically. I Love Eilish’s creation.

  7. Rose Meeker says:

    Powerful poem, Don.
    We rest without knowing…

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