The Cycle

The Cycle:

A lot can happen in one Cycle…one life, one day, one time,

One life, a plea for help, a plea for harmony,

One day, a plea for help from a certain blue chime,

One time, a plea for help caused by such disharmony.

The Cycle ends and a new begins…

A flow of blue and yellow comes to shore,

Seeking solace from a sea of red mist,

Away from a state of never -ending war,

Searching for safe havens to exist.

A family from afar finds the blue of highlands,

Finding not the red flames of war,

But the flames of a new home’s warmth, and new horizons,

A form of great comfort, not as before.

A tiny family, needing only the simplest of things,

A bicycle, one for an even tinier one,

A solution found, a present suited with no strings,

A quest was set in motion, and a new cycle had begun.

One life cycles up and down the hills of conviction,

Determined to meet a promise, as other wheels big and small zoom by,

To make other lives happy, made one life happy, the best subscription,

Getting closer to those in need nearby.

One life found the haven for the blue and yellow,

A family found, but missing so much,

A dash of blue from the sky brought the mood mellow,

A plea to come inside for some much-needed lunch.

Stories shared from one world to another,

Ones filled with sorrow, others with joy,

Simple riches exchanged, and bellies recover,

Now for little ones to have their new toy.

Outside the yellow sun beams true,

A child now cycles round and round,

With it, smile after smile grew,

Youth playing in greenist green, bliss was truly found.

The Cycle ends and a new begins…

Always a constant, a fundamental cycle,

The endless dance between bliss and sorrow,

A Queen’s death, a loss so viral,

So much in one day, what can happen tomorrow?

Back from work, a belly now empty,

A look through the lens of the world,

A passing made many so heavy,

Yet an image, a past cycle had unfurled.

A girl, a future noble, a world in black and white,

On a bicycle, smile after smile grew wide,

A cycle left and right until out of sight,

A moment ago, another girl took similar pride.

A cycle of colors made their presence that day,

Lessons learned, wisdom gained,

A new day was underway,

Reminders of life had reigned.

In one’s mind, we must mourn the presence of violent red,

We must mourn the presence of the scythe,

Yet, above all, appreciate the life ahead,

And when possible, avoid such strife.

Looking not at seas of red, but land of purest green.

One life, one day, one time.

The Cycle ends and a new begins…