The cycle

This cell becomes division
an idea a split a incision
a night and a day
Black and white
But in this division
We can see, we can envision
Identity pouring forth
The tiny flame
Of a name…

This tree becomes a seed
It moves it bleeds and breaks
a part of itself to move forward
and yet it is not how it started out
however it doesn’t lose it self to doubt
We branch out wards like this family tree

This fire becomes a spark
It lights another flame
Who could tell it from the fire
and yet it has its own desires

The human becomes a egg
Hatching catching its mothers eyes
One day it will be fully grown
Will it still feel the sting of being alone?

This ocean becomes a drop
A drop that drips from a leaf
A raindrop that settles on the ground
In the cycle of Gaia
Repeating on and on
We are not separate
We move on and on..

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