Circles

One of June's Recollections; 2009.

The wind, it blows
And time it flows
The rivers move to the sea

The skies will always bruise to night
Sure as the leaves fall from the trees

We all pass years
And years pass by
We learn
We grow
We die

But time has a funny thing
Of stitching curving lines

The tides roll in
And pull back out
Moving grains of sand

The fires burn the grass to its roots
So the seeds twitch and start again

Everything moves to its own time
But to a time none the less
Circles drawn are circles crossed
Paths that come and end

But the end becomes the new beginning
When all else is said and done
And we find ourselves starting again
Beneath the same old sun

Reviews

[Su' Nacnetaf]

SImply beautiful, the way you express the ever changing yet repeating ways of time. Great writing.

[Callisto]

I enjoyed this poem, it reminded me of an author I learned about in English class last month that believed that time cycles itself ultimately and the past repeats itself, I think it was every 2000 years. Of course, not exactly repeats itself but there is supposed to be a notable repetition. Cycles are a wonderful part of the world I think, even down to breathing in and out, in them I think we can find the balance that nature exhibits in its fostering of life on Earth.

[NM Sarah]

This is one of my favorite themes and it is beautifully expressed. Cycles are central to the human experience. It is universal. I'd like to hear you this read aloud. It "sounds" great. Thanks.

[Jamie White]

Nice read.
I really like the last two paragraphs (: