Water For A Thirsty Dog

So what on earth can we assume these days,
When all that seems to work in past displays
A tendency to break, get sick, despair, or move away?
Is there a center point? Is all decay?

A friend of mine once took a pin-wheel bright,
And blew upon its folds – when held just right
It whirled around, all colors blended in
To make a shade of pink around the pin.

He said, “That, to my eyes, is much like life –
It whirls around and symbolizes strife;
What looked to me like separate color bars,
Is blended to a hue unreal by far.

When choice we make’s to live out on the fin,
Life whirls around, confuses life we're in;
Assumptions like those color-bars so clear,
Evaporate as winds of chance come near.”

But then he said, “There is one center piece,
Where we can find from whirl a sweet release;
We can assume from whirl we will be free
Upon that center-pin – come here with me.

For there’s a center spot in life for each,
It’s not that hard for each of us to reach;
Just like the pole-star in the northern sky,
It is the center point – as life whirls by.

Without that center point, just like the pin
There’d be no whirl, no move of life within,;
We need each part – for steadiness and growth,
Agreement three – hold essence of them both.

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