The Centre
I cannot find the centre.
With no center I lose my way.
A compass may point this way or that
But lacking a centre
It floats on a sea of stars
Where it might point this way or that.
Lacking a centre,
A compass is little more
Than an arrow shaken loose
From its moorings
And left madly floating
Within a cage of brass.
No centre.
No focus.
No direction.
Nothing but endless circles.