Circle

a poem that goes round and round

A turning
rings about
like this sweet
tune the quick
bird plays

and joy infused
today
as the sky
painted a truth
my heart opened for.

Beauty overtakes me
and you fill in the air
and something turns-- 
a blending occurs
then abruptly,

the hurt,
the wet cheeks,
the anguish in my gut,
all took place and
bowed before me

in a melancholic ride,
we all knew would end.
But never saw the edges,
never knew when,
but now.

Now we see,
now we are free
and love unfurls;
drape me with pleasure pearls.
For this circle is anew.