The ‘Big Circle’ – Seasons

An incomplete circle

left so by the hand that drew

with an end

and a Beginning.


The arrival and all the cacophony

like birds that announce spring;

First learning curve

moving straight, but around.


The summer days 

by the refining fire

slowly taking shape,

round, solidifying.


The inevitable trap that lay

waiting, unmoved.

Until the sun had set

and all eternity did fall


From the dust 

did rise a warrior

one who could bare the lone winter

until the hand that drew stopped!



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