t h e v o l u t e
Every year, when it comes
time for my birth day, to day —
I think about the numbers,
one to the other, and what
added summation they
might make, to mean.
So now, in 54 turns
around the sun, this forms
9, the volute, that drawing
spinning outward, a vortex
to what was begun, and
what will be found, and what
will be seen, along the coursing
of that curve, spinning out.
And this time, I contemplate
that looking down to the
water, I see the stars, yet
in them, the sky, found
that great curving above
me the forms the arc
of experience, in being
somewhere new. Yet,
perhaps in the beginning of
the volute, just starting
its arc, making way, to
the new outward reach
of one’s life, an ever moving
curl, the long tale, unfurled.
—-
Tim | 54 | d e c a t u r i s l a n d