The Words Whirl Around Poem by Peter S. Quinn

The words whirl around
While I sing them to my theme
Some reflections of a thought found
Inside the nearly clear-cut stream

The scattered salt of earth
A tune of straight lines falls
I'll sing my heart to birth
While the tune from inside calls

The witnesses of my own heart
Dissolving from innocent spring
Straight or curved shape start
As their birds to me will sing

This pendulum of the singing
To stir up the word and flame
Together each line's stringing
To build up each thoughts aim

Words of my song is committed
And much from the nature told
Tenderly of me they are fitted
As they to my melodies unfold


*Basho once wrote:

Not yet a butterfly
Even as autumn passes
The caterpillar

Ha ha ha …: -)