The Bowl Poem by Zyw Zywa

The bowl wiggles
hypnotising light
and dark up and down

Taps of my nail
Pressing the edge down
Slowly following the round

Waves reflect the sun
Fluctuating light
Wiggle bowl

With a stick, I hit a vibrating current
into the bronze, the wooden table
and from my finger to my heart

into my blood, my waving blood
light and dark hum
the maternal tone

of my life up and down
breathe every second
in and out and do not fade