Wednesday, November 1, 2006

Cycle

The leaves fall off
With the call of the fall
The blood runs out
With last dregs of hope

The womb lay still
Empty, yearning
The cold settles proud
On the raw, naked branches

Another winter, another episode
Of long, frigid waiting

And then it just ended
Just like it began
Even the waiting
Had to just stop

Life was to be lived
Once, once more
Little fists had to curl
In the once empty womb
Little leaves had to sprout
With a statement of hope

A cycle it was, and always has been
The winter comes, so does the spring

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