My Wheel

By Tyler, N.P.

O MAGIC wheel
Of burnished steel
How part of myself thou art!
As we roll along
‘Mid the hurrying throng
That peoples the busy mart.

Let’s haste away
From the heat of day
To the woods’ refreshing shade,
Where the babbling brook,
In some sheltered nook,
Is gurgling a-down the glade.

Where the oriole swells
His throat as he tells
Of his flight through ethereal space,
And his music flows
While the earth’s repose
Is deeper because of his grace.

I can talk as we roll,
And I know that a soul
Must lurk in thy wonderful frame;
A spiritual essence,
Some far hidden presence,
Some genius of magical fame.

I know well they power
In each trying hour,
Thou servant so faithful and true;
When the swift rushing wind
Is left muttering behind,
As thou sippest the sweet morning dew.

Or when Sol dips his crest
‘Neath the glorious west,
And the sunlight congeals into dark;
We will skim by the sea,
We will shoot o’er the lea,
We will follow the meteor’s mark.

Thou life-giving wheel,
Whose sinews are steel,
My veins imbibe life from thine own;
And I sink to my rest
With a true loyal zest,
While my dreams are my ‘cycle’s alone.

Rest, then, on the moss
Where the soft zephyrs toss,
Thou circlet of beauty and pride;
While th’invisible wings
Attached to thy strings
Are folded in peace at thy side.

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