North is a fleeing direction,

wayward voyagers—Mariners—know,

at speeds that vary yearly—

1 league or more from winter solstice to Michaelmas;

all round-world’s compass deviations

changing with magnetic shift at different rates.

A motion that would be some form

of relativity if only North and South

did not their orientation oft reverse

at intervals so long that DNA can fashion

minds with altered sensibilities—

our present turned to past will never be

what retrospectively is seen.

And even ovoid Earth, spinning, points an axis

over two hundred centuries circling through Zodiac—

lodged in a spiral galaxy that turns,

hurtling to some formless boundary

no soul would ever seek.

Man’s heart cleaves to ancient

cycles—circadian motion—when tides and night

swelled and fell at slower pace;

every pulse marking stanzas

of quickened or lengthened measures

magnetic, tidal, lunar, solar, astronomical—

rhythms aligning heart with force fields

invisible and indivisible.

Spirals and circles entrained in ciphers—

cycles beyond human computation—

Is it any wonder that few human

gyroscopes align? Though that migratory

bird, Love, impels Soul to seek ancestral

heartlands where Eden’s paradise fashions

naïveté’s golden fruit.

I like the third stanza a lot. That similie was really wonderful and I liked the alliteration. I also likes how you said drumbeats because it was a different than the typical comparison of heartbeats to a drum.

The rest of the piece was good as well. It was a really interesting description of this person's journey. The end was nice too. Sweet.

The only thing is that first stanza. The phrasing threw me off. How does the starts contesting to the magnetic north connect to the next line? It seemed almost like that last line really belonged in the second stanza...

PS Check out the Review Game and/or it's Review Marathon (links in my profile!)

I really love the idea of the constant north. A direction not that you were meant to travel but one that was meant to travel with you, and through you. Keep up the good work.

Much love,

Juliet.