When self-discouragement scolds, 

“Didn’t you learn this already?”

I am growing more apt to look Beyond—

where cycles abound: days, lunar phases, seasons—

And from this Whole, so learn-ed in patterns of revolution, 

I ask for wisdom.

In stillness, in watching, I hear:

Yes, same lesson, but also new.

The image of a whirlpool arises, 

Myself held in the current, with 

Each rounding of the pool

Taking me deeper and closer to the 

Center. 

Ever more to learn,

Ever greater depths.

Looking back, I learn from my past 

even as I circle in my present. 

Ahead holds greater growth,

Moving ever deeper, ever closer

To that Center, 

Where, I realize,

With both awe and unease,

There will be some kind of 

Disappearing—

Like the leaf, pulled into a suckhole on a stream,

Round, round, then 

Gone from sight,

Pulled fully into the vortex. 

Then what? 

I do not know.

The Center is Mystery. 

Yet again, this revolution-ary wisdom 

Seems to be pointing

At something that is not to be known—

As in certainty—

But rather to be trusted: 

The leaf does emerge,

Sometime,

Somewhere 

Still part of the Entire

Still and always

transforming.