Cycles

Rain falls gently, a soft tune beating
Washing away the dead of winter
Flowers blossom, bees buzz, new life grows

First cries like music ring through the air
Cymbals shatter silence, babies wail
The compositions first movement.

Sun shines bright, nourishing the earth
Birds chirp sweetly, high in the trees
Animals grow and leave their home

Mud-pies and tag and children at play
A climbed tree, a scrapped knee
From first sleepover to first school dance

The lull between seasons, sequence in life
Spring youth, shift adulthood, fall old age
Watching, directing, time crescendos

Wind blows chilling the rustling leaves
Bright colors, red and green pop in the sky
Slowly they fall like dancing butterflies

Grandparents stay in the warmth of home
They smile and chat while children play
Remembering youth passed long ago

The cold falls with a cruel hard thud
But pretty white flakes fill the earth
Washed pure and clean it is refreshed

What once was life lies in a cold box
Tears flow gently mourning their loss
The empty space of life gone by

We are born, grow, die and are replaced
The song of life plays through
Dust to dust and us to our maker

One thought on “Cycles

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