There is a place if we earn it and own it
A Center unique if we each will but know it
Where the mind is cold and honest and true
Yet passions burn like fires renewed
But it’s not the “Still Point” of poets’ renown
Where opposites meet or typhoons becalm
It’s active and full of growing and glowing
My center is I, a Self that is mine
For here is where pleasure and pain combine
To create my days and my soul define
Our Center is all, so let each take heed
What we make of ourselves is who we shall be
It’s only in death we meet Still Point of fame
While the world spins on not remembering our name
Time cannot be stopped, nor the cry of the dove
So celebrate life and all that you love
Each moment, each “now,” while you dance here on earth
Is eternity’s gift, every morning’s rebirth
For we must decline. Alas! None are divine
Make it fun, make it fine, make it sweet and sublime
Not to live while alive is the only crime
Copyright ©
Alexandra York, all rights reserved