"To wheel" can mean to move in a curved course, or to move as if on a wheel. Unless he's describing some apocalyptic moment, I would guess (without other context) that he means simply that the sun is about to set.
The myth of Apollo pulling the sun in his wheeled chariot might contribute to the colorful phrasing chosen here.
[I am a native speaker and hold an undergraduate degree in English, but I am not a teacher]
This is the Cinderella moment; the hands are close to midnight， the spoked sun wheeling out of the sky.
In this case, does "wheeling" mean "changing its direction"?
Who wrote this? It's very strange. Cinderella - midnight - the sun wheeling out of the sky...
Another use of 'wheeling' - irrelevant in this case - is of a line of soldiers. The command 'Right turn' assumes that they are standing still; they all turn through 90 degrees. But the command 'Right wheel' assumes that they are marching forwards, in line abreast (that is with each one having a soldier on his/her right and left, so that there is a line perpendicular to the direction of movement; the one at the right end of the line marches on the spot, the one on his/her left marches forwards very slowly ... and so on, until we reach the leftmost end of the line, where the soldier marches very fast. The whole line 'wheels' to the right.
I wake， my eyes fill with morning light. The band---it's over. Shea Stadium tonight; this is it. The soft dream voice confirms with a knife-edge what I already know.
Like a raft lashed together with anything at hand， we have managed to float this far without disintegrating. With strange chemistry and fragile nexus， we raised the filmsy sail of chance---and still we haven't sunk. But this---the concert tonight---is the signifier of a final destination， the abandoning of the craft. As the summer waves fall on the beach in the close distance and fans in Police shirts and scarves and badges and armfuls of vinyl records line up outside of Shea Stadium， I clasp my hands behind my head and stare at the stuccoed ceiling.
The facts: We have held the number one album spot on the Billboard charts for four months without a break. We have had the number one single in the United States for eight weeks. We are a phenomenon. We have countless number one records around the world. We are a multimillion-dollar industry. We are three. All this---and yet it seems like only a flickering five minutes ago that we were pushing a broken van back through the streets of London after a gig we played to no one. Tonight we play out the fantasy of millions.
This is the Cinderella moment; the hands are close to midnight， the spoked sun wheeling out of the sky. I stare across the room into the mirror over the mantel， where the early light creates a soft chiaroscuro. Sting has been muttering about how this is the time to stop， to get off， to quit at the high point of the curve. He has repeated this as if it is a fait accompli， an idea whose time has come， but instead of negating this idea or working out some slower form of dissolution or telling him to fuck off， I have murmured a sort of assent as if it's some kind of engaging concept， an interesting idea. But on the gut level it's devastating. I knew that this was inevitable， that it was always in the script; the question was when it would surface. Is it possible to walk away from this poppy， this opiated success， this deadly nightshade of stardom?
I don't think he's talking about the actual time of day. I think he's intending the "wheeling out of the sky" bit as another way to express the "Cinderella moment"---simply, that everything is about to fall apart.
A theater professor I worked with taught me something he called the "rule of three," which basically says that anything is more effective if repeated three times. (Think of all those jokes that mention three people: the doctor, the lawyer, and the clergyman.) Reading this passage, it occurred to me that Mr. Andy Summers had been taught the same lesson and took it a bit too much to heart.
Come to think of it, when the hands are close to midnight，the sun should have already been set...
That is what I was thinking when I wrote my last post. But I think this is right:
Originally Posted by Delmobile
I don't think he's talking about the actual time of day. I think he's intending the "wheeling out of the sky" bit as another way to express the "Cinderella moment"---simply, that everything is about to fall apart...
The passage marks the end of an era for the Police. 'The Cinderella moment' is that moment when the spell is broken. I think we were being too literal, Pink Dragon.