Wail of the newborns
Mournful cries of those who have lost
Tears of joy or sorrow accompany
The entry of life or the death of another
But that is not all that there is
There is more
There is the spirit
There is a circle, without origin, without end
Perpetual, eternal, divine, the perfect metaphor
For everything we experience, and will know
With the circle, have we heard the message sent
Life as the chase between victim and predator
Dead bodies feed the spores, worms feed the crows
If there is death, we must endure, it is a part of life
How dare we avoid it, like a child does strife
I might not invite her grasp, no, but I can now be whole
Knowing all who live, die, with the survival of the soul
