There is One,
the infinite circle,
and it just…be.
No sun, no moon,
no water, no land,
no drama, no trauma,
so….
There be light!
There be darkness.
There be sound.
There be silence.
The circle folds,
infinity twists
into showering stars;
world bends and is born.
Flowers stretch beauty
against a curtain of rain,
a canopy of leaves
creator calls sane.
Crawly bug is born,
feathered friend,
then a furry one.
Creation doesn’t end.
Clay sculpted wet,
an anchor for Soul,
a curious creature,
with a heart of gold.
The blue ball spins,
watching the dance,
waiting for them
to take a chance,
and remember,
it is we.
©2007 Joanne Sprott