It Whirls Around (From, Poet On Www) Poem by Peter S. Quinn

It whirls around,
All what is of existence;
Yet nowhere to be found,
Only in by chance.
A skin of water air,
And loft of flow restless;
The clouds of anywhere,
With breeze of freshness.

It whirls asking,
Still there's no question;
Impatient in its tasking,
Surrounds with suggestion.
Puzzles great numbness,
A light of empty daze;
Sometimes in a glumness,
Continues to amaze.

It whirls stretching,
From the dank woodland;
And in the calm relaxing,
At ease and in command.
A skin of velvet ends,
Yet nowhere to be bound;
What to a nature blends,
And goes around expound.