To Rotate, Wander

It’s not a choice. You do both,
Everywhere in this cosmos.

Depending on perspective,
However, to outsiders,

You’ll seem to be wandering
Or rotating perfectly

As any brass pendulum,
Knocking down pegs in a ring.

And from your own perspectives,
You may feel like wandering

Or savor cyclicity.
You find yourself happiest

Choosing bearings that suggest
Moving freely or smoothly.

You’re doing both, lovely waves—
Rotating in grooved circles,

Which, when human, pass for time—
Or meandering loosely,

A small, reflective planet
In a sphere of fiery stars.

Choose the backdrop you prefer
To get lost in your return.