Wheel
Oblivious, uncaring stars above,
wheel ever on and on through darkened skies;
wheel never noting how man falls in love,
not seeing that he lives and that he dies.
Should not your silent riddles be enough?
Yet to you, yearning, now I raise my eyes,
with all my longings given wings to rise,
each poised to soar to heaven as a dove.
Should I strive to be as seem you, serene,
forever stately stepping your ballets,
to follow you in silent timeless ways
across the heavens? Let this course between
eternity and earth remain unseen;
your dim light fades before that of my days.
Stephen Brooke ©2023
Yep, a sonnet. More a matter of playing with words than anything particularly meaningful.
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