Yesterday’s post concerning a Round, Edgeless Future pressed me into remembering how we are surrounded by circles but few of us realize their power.
Chains of events also create circles but even fewer of us are able to forge the connections to complete the meaning.
A circle is the original conundrum: What indicates everything and nothing at the same time?
We ride on circles. We hold hands and create two joined circles.
Circles remind us of who we are and where we began.
A droplet of rain falls from a circle-of-the-sun sky and feeds the land below in rippling circles.
Circles provide joined arcs between the living and the progression of time.
Circles humble us by joining swings of the pendulum into a recognizable shape and by providing us with the ominous sense of an unforgiving continuity in the inevitability of our demise and the wonder of the unknown.
Circles are the most imitated shape the body craves to recreate alone, together and in masses.
The covenants of history warn us against the power of abused circles and of the responsibility to face our fears without edges or points or angles from which to hide from the worst of us.
A circle is the only shape we can create with one hand.
As a child, a circle is the first shape we draw in the sand with a finger in the first chase at perfection.
A circle is formed by two arms making a hug. A circle joins us to each other by looking backward into history and forward into the future.
Many believe a circle has a beginning and an end only when creating it and breaking it — but we haven’t really created a circle until there is no start or finish to the form.
Circles are perfect compasses of time and everlasting containers of hope that cannot be easily broken.
Circles are the eyes, the nipples and the straight-on tools of human reproduction — as one circle enters another — to combine the ends in the regeneration of a new, unchained, circle of desire for immortality.