Dizzy, The Dance

The earth is a circle,
isn't that the given?
Never mind the
explorers' wonder,
the sailing ships,
the years and years
of questions,
the arguments,
the fairy tales,
the myths.
It really is,
and always was,
a circle!

Crazy moon,
a circle too!
Half-hidden
in its travels,
invisible at times,
but cycling still.
And do we not
place our trust
in the fact that
the moon will not,
under any
circumstance,
betray us?
Does it not
return to us,
ever and always,
full-blown,
a circle?!

The many planets,
we draw them out,
bring them to mind,
think of them,
shape them
of styrofoam
for science fairs,
to oribit the sun,
a fiery circle,
surrounded by
even more circles.
We spin all of this
on some wild contraption,
hoping for a blue ribbon,
round and round
and round again,
a circle!

And the wheels,
two of them,
that glide a bike,
or the four or more,
on your car or truck,
that train, a plane
before take off.
Circles, spinning,
spinning cricles.
Though traveling
square, the city blocks
and country miles,
as the crow flies,
with sharp angles,
twists and turns,
uphill climbs,
do we not
arrive home
having traveled
full circle?

I ask you then,
as my mind spins,
isn't this
some crazy orb?
And is an orb,
not a circle,
another word for it?
Do I need to grab
the dictionary
and take a look?
Isn't it true ,
spinning brain matter,
a soul's centrifuge,
swirling (madly, this is true !),
ever and ever,
faster and faster,
and does it not spin,
in a circle?

My heart then,
fist in size,
point of no return,
and maximum impulse,
is it not a circle?
I beg you to differ!
Does it not beat
and flow
and shove
and throb
and dare to
draw blood?
In and out
and under
and through,
the body's insides
on Doppler screen,
all this red and blue,
circulatory mapping,
does it not direct us,
ever and ever,
in a circle?

More crazy still,
as this poem
descends
its wild spiral
down the page,
isn't it spinning
in wicked circles?
in all its unruly and mad free verse that defies all(including this long sentence hanging way the heck out here and taking up extra lines),
doesn't it
work its way
down the page,
swirling, swirling,
maddening,
dancing spirals?

Did I not
start this in order
that I end it too?
A circle!

That being said,
all my thoughts
seem to start
and stop with you.
This, again, a circle.
And do you believe,
inside this giant loop,
lies safe haven,
where hearts regroup
in subsets sound,
all that is life,
inside one big
giant circle?

Therein, I wonder,
couldn't we rest,
drawn up tight,
everything we need
inside with us,
within the circle:
The earth,
the planets,
the moon,
the sun,
my eyes,
your eyes!
Globes,
they are,
every one,
and all the children,
visions within the globe,
all this love
and hope,
a crazy circle,
sets and subsets.

Circles!