The Wheel of Fate grinds on non-stop
It speeds and slows just like a top
Sometimes we feel we’re flying high
At others – in a pit we lie.
But you know that you will climb the hill
And the view beyond will be a thrill.
I speak of course in metaphor
Life’s a boat that leaves the shore
Pushed by the current fast downstream
Or caught in weeds with time to dream
It’s the pace that varies; all depends
On our motivation, health and friends.
Have you noticed how, when life is good
The stream becomes a raging flood?
No time to ponder and reflect
Life in the fast line is direct.
In the Doldrums I have long been stuck
Now there’s a change – the wind picks up
Well, this is how it seems to me
As I float down to the open sea …
(c) Poet in the woods 2014