Going Somewhere

Travelling standing still, I took Years to do a piece Of one Pacific Island. Now Everywhere I look— As if I stood on top the Pole And saw surrounding how The horizon was travelling While I was standing still— The world goes round and round and I Am pure content to be Its tiny axis toward a sky That points and centers, spinning by, In an earth that is, with me, From root’s depth, into tree, By tiny atoms, back and forth, Shaken, a round trip out of earth, To earth’s depth as before. I could not travel more. One circle out of earth and back Takes seventy years at least; The other goes with mental speed Around to the level east. The atom of my mind can look While it is being taken Upon an arc the plumed trees look, Shaken and unshaken. So the two circles. Momentary The horizontal one. And the tall circle, too, the airy Flight to the flowing sun, Converge on this, my standing still, My travelling through space, Going somewhere, until I arrive at no place.