Standing Still On a Spinning Wheel

The sky feels soft like warm blue powder brushed gently on my face.
Quiet piercing my soul like small needles cottonball clouds,
I sit and spin with the earth and the sun by my side.

Time sits on the steps next to me, a jar full of sweet honey and dreams.
The birds above musicnotes in a bright, clear symphony
white and bright above and under my silent feet.

Standing still on a spinning wheel, yesterday, today and tomorrow
clear glazes on life's golden rays that are a part of me,
unsigned, unknown, yet near and dear to my beating heart.

All of us standing still on a spinning wheel, 
wondering where the journey will take us, as we step while we can
all around all over this big green shiny valley looking for the way home.



Trudi Ralston.
April 6th, 2017.