Nature is the wheel
growing from a center unseen
It all seems unreal
A wheel in a wheel
inside a dream
Segments of time
between pillars of sand
An echo and a rhyme
with an undefined plan
Yet it grows
as it goes
as it encircles
its heart
In some kind of
equation
making random
art
The web is a strand
of the smallest detail
laid out along
a most curious trail
The shell of the creatures
who live in the sea
seem insignificant
to most like me
Yet they hold
in their form
from time born
something grand
A mystery
that men
can't quite
understand
YOU ARE READING
The Nautilus
ПоэзияWe are so dark in the heart of this night and it never stops and it never starts. I find myself a mystery and I see nothing that surrounds me that I endeavor to know more than the universe inside myself. Michael J Tyger, poet and novelist...
