The Sine-Wave

A sine-wave’s just a Ferris wheel which rolls along the ground,
A pencil strapped upon its rim which marks each cycle’s round;
Sometimes it’s up, sometimes it’s down, but most it’s on its way
Towards the high or lowest point, or so the sine-waves say.

So, when I’m up, I see as God in Christ, where I’ve been placed;
And when I’m down, I’m very down, as when I am disgraced;
But mostly it’s trajectory as cycles carry through;
I don’t condemn when I am up, or judge the things you do –

As if I’m different, for I’m not – for I’ve been lifted up,
As on a Ferris wheel which spins around ’till turn’s enough
To make us want to leave our ride and play some other game,
For highs and lows get on our nerves – each cycle seems the same.

But there are those who live down there and think that’s all there is;
They scurry ’round and do their thing in Giver-land of biz,
Until that day, when done with that, they’re lifted in the loop,
And see, in Christ, the bigger pix of actions of their group.

Then, when they’re carried towards their low, they feel a deeper shame,
They see for real what they’re about, no longer in the game;
Then up and they go, see real again, or glimpse a bit at least,
Thus sine-wave shows trajectory – once more themselves they meet.

So up and down, and ’round and ’round through life the sine-wave goes;
Trajectory’s extremities, for us, our highs and lows;
It’s not all highs or lows for us, but mostly in between,
Where we work out the meaning for ourselves of “mean” and “mean”.

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