Cycles

When a flower dies

New fruits may come.

When a bee dies

Its work is done.

When the grass dies

And sinks in the ground

It feeds the soil

Where new seeds are found.

When day breaks

It replaces the night

When the day wakes

And the birds all take flight

When we awake

And eyes open wide

We must do what it takes

even go with the tide.

As weeks pass us by

And we take on each day

As each month ends

And we keep finding ways

As the years end

and we keep growing older

while our bones may be brittle

we’ve become far bolder.

As night falls

And darkness prevails

As our lives end

We prepare for the veil

But the cycle goes on

our being is not done

It’s just one life story

Off the loom, it is spun.