They tried to re-create the sun
in all its round perfection,
a flat perfect disc,
They set their creation on its edge
to work the surface smooth
and the edge clean
like the life-giving orb they worshipped,
but it began to move on its own
smoothly along its own track.
It was magic.
The sun moved through the sky
by means no mortal could see.
Now this hand-made sun moved along the earth
by similar means
but they knew, somehow, the portent of this moment
as they followed their stone disc
as it rolled slowly down the path
as if it was patiently showing them
poem Inventing the Wheel © 2010 Bernadette E. Kazmarski
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