Working On The Wheel
I came by sea,
I hear you came by air.
On the way what did you see?
What would you like to share?
They say we all have a part to play,
and there is nowhere else to go.
They are still working on the wheel.
The wider it spins, the more they come to know.
Did you hear the dolphin cry?
It came from the ocean floor.
The dome holds the silence of the sky.
Now the key is found, there is an open door.
Hard to keep a secret in this world as it is
but they have managed it so far.
Let’s go down to the canteen, join the other newcomers,
and you can tell me who you are.
The press ask for inside information,
the nail hit on the head.
What they put in their reports
is muddied truth, the captain said.
They ask what is this about top secret?
Is it really real?
We have been told to tell them that
we are working on the wheel.
We must master the reins of our star chariot,
we must map its course.
The ancients would not believe
we could win the race without a horse.
The caveman in his cave
who first worked out what was real,
his tribe thought he had become a hermit
till he told them he was working on the wheel.
Out in my back garden,
snails and slugs eat the seeds I put out for the birds.
Nature knows the rules
but does not follow all the words.
We want to leave something behind,
we want to make a name.
We want to climb the rungs to play
at the top of the game.
If we allow ourselves to survive,
one day there may be nothing to conceal.
We can stand back and applaud
the completion of the wheel.
What they don’t know is that
there are no secrets to steal
when you become aware
we are all working on the wheel.
Now we have found a magic,
older than a wizard’s wand,
those Victorian engines have a futuristic feel.
Seems since the pyramids,
we have wanted to build a sacred edifice
to which we can kneel.
When we board our star chariot,
we will still be working on the wheel.