The Wheel
In innocence, all is beautiful.
Rain is cleansing, the eternal rebirth of goodness.
Night is soothing, a warm blanket in which to wrap a child's
dreams.
Death is unknown.
All too soon, innocence is replaced by fear and pain.
The gentle rain becomes a torrent threatening to destroy the
very foundations of life.
Night transforms into the keeper of terrors untold.
Death claims all- the end.
Only by knowing the extreme of each
Can we meld them into a state
of true awareness, in which we can truly be said
to be alive.
Rain is beautiful, and torrential, to become magical.
Night becomes the keeper of truths.
And Death?
Death becomes a beginning, overlapping
with birth
to create the endless cycle of life.
It is then that we know ourselves, and can truly love.
This is Elayna's
property, any unauthorized use of this poem will result in me letting a
hive of killer bees loose on you.
Check out Elayna's homepage
at: http://www.oocities.org/BourbonStreet/8969/
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