Five times, now, has the wheel turned...
Five dances around the sun,
has Earth Mother danced...
Some days,
She seems far, so far away...
And then I catch a glimpse of my hands...
The wrinkles in my knuckles,
the pink hue,
the shape,
the way I hold something.
And she is there.
Here.
With me.
Within me.
Flowing through me.
Just within arm's reach...
Always.
In death,
there is life.
As a seed is planted, and begins to sprout...
Birth.
As the apple tree bursts with fruit...
Life.
As the apple falls...
Death.
As the apple is split apart,
a seed of hope, of possibility, lies cradled within...
The promise of new life.
As the apple is eaten,
life is nurtured, sustained.
As the apple rots within...
death.
As the apple is expelled from the body,
it becomes food for the Earth...
Re-birth.
And so the wheel turns.
And the spiral of LIFE continues.
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