-- Il Mundo Si Gira --

-- The World Still Turns --

By John Herlihy

Il mundo si ferma, the world stands still,

To hold itself true to place by God’s will.

The sun rises on its own terms in the East,

The moon finally sets after a moveable feast.

The daytime sparks light on stalks of wheat,

The ebony night falls as darkness at our feet.

Seasons have a will, but not their own way,

Winter never stops spring having her say.

Snowflakes fall gently down from Heaven,

An injured tree heels itself with sticky resin.

As I awaken, I put my feet on the ground,

The earth fixed and firm, safe and sound.

Galileo etched his belief on the prison walls;

Eppur si muove, still it moves, it never stalls.

I do etch my beliefs on my own prison walls;

My inner world fills me, its truth enthralls.

I know nothing about what others may care;

I only perceive my own challenge to dare.

When the earth turns, it makes no sound;

Silence its true hallmark most profound.

Its movement imperceptible, utterly still;

Moving shadows betray the secret at will.

I may never get to see the Northern Lights;

Where a midnight sun never sets its sights.

Like Galileo, I know what others never confess;

I hold firm to il mundo si gira as what I profess.

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Copyright © John Herlihy

Monday 1 February 2022