I saw silver and gold and I was told I could have it all,
So I answered the call … I turned;
I saw fame and fortune and was told I could lay my claim,
So I did so with no self-blame … I turned;
I heard the blackbird promise power and my own great tower,
So I laid my bricks and did not cower … I turned;
I heard an old bard sing that peace was all mine to lease,
So I began to buy and did not cease … I turned;
I smelled all of the myriad roses in their beautiful poses,
So I started to buck and pluck … I turned;
I saw adulation and was told to clench it without hesitation,
So I made this my vocation … I turned…
Always turning, and always churning and burning with a hole
In my soul, and now I’m tired of being mired in such insane
And senseless pursuits that really suit no person, even me;
It’s like chasing the wind, running round every single bend,
Breaking my fragile heart, which not one of these could mend
Or even all of them taken together like one solitary feather;
But I hear the Voice that calls from the halls of my spirit,
And I realize that I’ve been unwise, creating my own demise;
Yet the Voice still beckons ‘n means to reckon with this man;
Ah! And so I turn one more time to hear this still, soft chime,
And will I need turn again or, perhaps, I’m done with turning
Even as I feel the smile and hear, ‘Come and welcome home.’
Note: Originally published in April 2016, now republished due to some renewed interest as well as for the consideration and enjoyment of new reader-followers. Blessings to one and all!