A whirling bit of energy
Exploded from the womb
On an Indiana summer day
When peaches were in bloom.
The whirling has continued
Throughout my days and years
A funnel cloud of energy
Filled up with joy and tears.
Can the whirling be a random thing?
Merely spinning in the wind?
Or could all the roads I've taken
Been planned at every bend?
All the turning round and lost at sea
Then straight ahead to land
Was it penciled out ahead of time
By the Master Artist's hand?
Could the joy and boundless love
From the souls that I have known
Be precious gifts and I am blessed
By seeds so gently sown?
Whether sweet or deeply bitter
I'll be sure the lesson's learned.
Each whirling bit of energy
Is given what is earned.