Boomerang

Swiftly she travels in circular patterns,
Banking off currents, too busy to care about
Rules of inertia, bending the air.
Coming to rest where her journey began.

Bands of perception trickle and tickle the
Soul of deception replete in your sail.
Winds of experience always prevail as the
Hourglass sharpens and runs out of sand.

We who have known you are ever attuned
Of your vigilant countenance, true to a fault,
Tempted to vault over hillside and valley
Only to turn and return to the nest.

And those who you touch, may the angels be with them,
Heaven forgive them and all of their seed.
Quenching the need of our civilized union,
Putting our labors to rest.

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