The Spiral

Stuck.
In the same
endless
cycle -
an illusion
of heading
somewhere,
feeding
myself, and
the past;
fear
holds me
in orbit,
until
I excape
from it
every time,
into
nothing
and
everything.

A Whorl

everything
is in a whorl -
a swirling, a churning,
spinning, unspinning,
each a whirling dervish
of stardust and love;
boundaries a blur,
emotions astir,
no beginning,
no ending,
no place to go to,
but now and here.