A.N. - This poem is a reaction to William Butler Yeats' poem "Second Coming."

Stopping the Gyres

There is no agent,
no one to blame
for the fall from grace.
Things fall apart
they cannot hold
to the quickening pace.

And all the change,
the leaves now turned
cannot hide the waste.
Try as they might
they're lacking sight
to properly save face.

A new world comes,
expanding still,
a never-ending race.
And they stand by
not acknowledging
antiquity's disgrace.

The outward spiral
of constant expansion
will replace the rags with lace.
Contraction fades
and no one will age
in this world, a brand-new place.