Windmills - Meck

Like a circle in a spiral,

Like a wheel within a wheel,

Never ending or beginning

On an ever-spinning reel,

Like a snowball down a mountain,

Or a carnival balloon,

Like a carousel that’s turning

Running rings around the moon,

Like a clock whose hands are sweeping

Past the minutes of its face,

And the world is like an apple

Whirling silently in space,

Like the circles that you find

In the windmills of your mind