The spinning top
The spinning top stops
Throwing its last lashing moments of dance in drunken swirls
Where there it drops
It’s true form unsheathed, behind the veil of swirls.
What was passionate, enchanting, romantic, so innocently fun
Is rocking back and forth, solemnly unspun
Such good things end at last, till inspiration finds idle hands,
That remember the child long past, and pay homage to what maturity bans.
The folly of our own spinning lives
Gravitates to compromise
Awareness of the center
Where the motion first started to canter
It’s spin, focused on the tip of a pin
And our final understanding of its role
To kelp is up, to keep
Us whole.
The spinning top will dance again, but not before it falls.
Renewing youths long lost friend
Graceful, grand, and standing tall, in all of life’s beauty hung in a marvelous hall.
It’s your turn to spin the top, be bold be gratefu be prepared to stop.
