Releasing They Who Spins

You painted roiling waves on your kinetic arms

And drew them into poses of perpetual readiness,

Their positions at odds with a roiling self-protection,

Desperate to model care; take useful shapes.

You bore a ready smile, but it faded too quickly,

Always conceding to furtive, penetrating eyes

Reflecting galleries of unnamed sorrows

You routinely purged with a sumptuous, trickster laugh.

Rules of Conduct dictated your structure,

From your broad shoulders to your nimble feet

That commanded each, hyper-vigilant step.

You would never abide anyone else's rules.

Waxing and waning govern a system of scarcity--

A precarious love for an entranced global circle.

You pour yourself out, and our roots grow deep,

Then parch as you ebb into cycles of solitary naming.

How I longed for your courses to move back within our reach.

How I wished we could spare you the naming.

I once exposed my arms to influence the cycle,

Tilt the axis, hasten the revolutions, abide in your churn,

But I mistook your quenchless freedom for a healing path.

Your gravity well tore us open,

Left destruction without reckoning.

We are now two forces on opposite sides of a planet.

I wanted to help you name,

Get mixed in your mystery, help sort it. 

But nothing was never to be ours...

So I endeavor to name and sort my own.