...at the still point, there the dance is.
—T. S. Eliot
The errand into the maze,
Emblem, the heel's blow upon space,
Speak of the need and order the dancer's will.
But the dance is still.
For a surmise of rest, over the flight of the dial,
Between shock of the fall, shock of repose,
The flesh in its time delivered itself to the trial,
Saturday, December 24, 2016