The Balancing Act

A flurry of tasks, a whirlwind of need,
Each plate a promise, a seed to be freed.
A delicate dance, a precarious art,
With every spin, a beating of heart.
The plates fly high, a dizzying sight,
Each one a challenge, a beacon of light.
A moment of pause, a breath to hold tight,
Before the next spin, into the night.