Yet another cycle
All cycles, always
Self returning upon self
in an unseen order of things,
the spinning snake
ever biting the tail.

The gilt, the red,
the guilt, and the dead.
They are the ant
and the mushroom
the mountain air
and the blue whale
Strands woven
in that ever repeating tapestry,
bone to dust to grass to feed.
The cruel Red Tide
and the circling planets,
the day,
the ages.
Mirror images
of a permanent past,
countless unchanging futures.
A spiderweb with no center
a bottomless net
a tunnel whose left is also its right
and start is its finish.
Nowhere to get to
or get from.
No destination in that neverending circle,
no purpose.

Ever the spirit flame speaks
of the lips of death
from which it cannot rest
Never done
I but complete
yet another cycle.

02/21/2002

Posted on 09/19/2002
Copyright © 2024 Amanda J Cobb