The wheelwright worked, as carefully, <br />yet so fast, as a wheel spins. <br /> <br />One day, someone said to him, <br />the centre of the wheel never moves. <br /> <br />Infuriated, the wheelwright worked night and day <br />neglecting his other work, <br />to prove this was not true; <br /> <br />he invented a wheel which was all rim; <br />but it still needed a hub, an axle; <br />but he had invented the flywheel; <br />his business flourished despite him. <br /> <br />He invented a wheel with a hollow at its centre; <br />but had to devise a radiating hub; <br />yet he had invented machinery; <br />his business thrived. <br /> <br />After many years, he sank back, <br />beaten by philosophy; reduced to stillness. <br /> <br />Around him, a huge business enterprise; <br />he, the hub, the axle, <br />the still centre.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wheelwright-for-david/
