Every Year.

Every year is a cavity within our lives,

A microcosm of our greater path,

Every year at solstice we are conceived,

Gestate in the womb of our winter den,

Are born to a fresh world every spring,

Grow wild and free in our days of summer,

Reach our prime as the leaves begin to fall,

Slow and retreat into feasts and memories,

To die at winters doorstep,

Only to be born again,

Our annual reincarnation marks and mirrors,

The endless cycles of our lives,

The eternal linear circle,

Where all ends meet at beginnings.