Riding on the Wheel of Time – a poem

Whispers echo across fields of snow

The mind, wistful, acknowledges

Purity, summoned through thick skin

And orthodox ideology, beckoning

Come to me, come to God


While nighttime starlight, dancing

Puddles of rainfall on rooftop shingles

Perpetual motion, the clock of the universe

Ticking, tocking, and never stopping,

Advancing through the ages, it flows


Where plums hang heavy, tree limbs

Burdened with spring thaw, drop

Bundles of abundance, riches aplenty

Into the arms of the needy, life falls

Gracefully into the giving season


Needing nothing save the air, the sun

A few morsels of nutrition, keeping still

The belly laughs in sheer abandon,

Shy at summer’s unveiling, reveals

More to the eye for less imagining


And autumn’s brisk wind blows, sends

Summer’s dresses flying bright

Cloaks the earth in shadows growing

Setting sun casts sideways glances

Winking, the moon rises full in the east


As lovers tempt the face of fate

And snow begins to fall, unheeding

The pleas for leniency, casting shadows

Across fields of snow, whispers echo

Come to me, come to God

© 2014 Echo LaVeaux

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