Carbon

The world spins you at sixty-six thousand miles
It wraps you around the sun from the moment of your birth.

You are traveling, my friend,
Even standing still
You are flying amongst the stars
Looming towards Lyra,
Venturing out past Vega,
You are constant movement, the second of the Galactic clock;
A gear everything might hang on.

There was a reason you were born
There is a reason why you take water within,
Feed on flesh and fruit,
Why your lungs bring in oxygen
Exhale a breath for the trees;
You are an essential part of the universe
Your mind directs the electrons, compose everything.

While you are standing there, archeologists are studying you
Looking through future wormholes, like tapes on fast forward -
You are a will-o-wisp! –
Like a moon pulling on the sea –
You are a celestial pendulum
Moving too too fast, wrapping the sun all up
And hurling a spiral arm around.

You spin the world at sixty-six miles per hour
A gear everything might hang on.