A pen always knows

 

how to reach the center of a line even when the subject is a circle.  Or a dahlia.  

So many blurry twists & turns

to a center by it's definition quite small.  Like an eye.  Then again, the big picture is taken in by the small eye. 

When I return to the center

of a dream I don't remember, where am I?  

 

Never, never forget

 to look along the edges even when the center beguiles.  

Is the center truly difficult to find?

Is is easy to stay within?  

There is always a woman at the center

 and frequently she is dancing.

Moving in and out

of center

black

and

white

all 

color

required

 

Pulled

toward 

pulled into  

perhaps, pulled through  

spiraling into the center

loving the ride. 

The present

always offers a center 

The center is ever forming

No gesture can quite capture (nor should it) a center.  Nor what flows from it.  Mystery is just this
-- small as a sky, large as a pebble, and the source of each haiku.  Think of this tonight, as you pour your best friend a glass of wine.