the pillar that turns

in time i came to see with my eyes closed to find what is framed by deepest darkness a turning pillar reaching from earth to dome glowing while it grinds on with a long roar its connectors are heavily reinforced blocks it is completely covered with intricate tiles thick and shaped with a myriad of clay faces each taking on the likeness of a human one found within the middle of my daily choices it turns on as the light of my mind travels along smooth lines as it falls through time to land on each one presented by its exterior and though the faces differ the pillar is one its breadth is measured by manner of heart and though the tile changes from regret i am happy that it springs forth from love same counts for the path to enlightenment journey from the calendar to the timeless to experience it yet causes a kind of deficit still faces are finding a reason for pulling every one is somehow born from a certain love even when it turns out to be because of anger either way by their fixation or enlightenment cardinal interest in its allotted place turns

CuldeSac

What are words without understanding and what is understanding without sense?

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