Turning

Like you, I have mistaken these dancing captions
For the life of a progressive mind.
Like you, I have thought that when one finger touches the ether
All knowledge would come pouring in for the final.
Like you, I have risen and poured forth streams of feelings.

What do I know that is not given, slipped in from behind?
Appearing first as love, then distain, then as laughter.
Finally as a surrender.
This human thing just turns and turns.

It is the delight of the stars to pour forth this.
Are we the gods laughing or crying? 
Where is that form when I close the door, close my eyes,
Shall you look this way, or move on?

The form dances only around perceptual fields.
So like the motes in the eye
That slide out of view when you turn your head.
It holds the depths of dying and the emergence.
But most of all, when it talks, I am.