The circle of life like a wheel it is turning,

With young sleeping peaceful as elders turn gray;

A moon in the night sky awaiting the morning,

When radiance of sun will turn dark into day.


We have watched the passing of spring and the swallow;

Seen sheen of light in lanes lush and green;

Picked autumn fruit on hill and in hollow;

Looked on the stubble where cut corn has been.


A young woman her beauty, the mirror’s reflection,

But it will fade like the bloom on the briar;

Then all the years gone will be thought’s direction,

Recalling frolics of courtship and looks of desire.


A youth of today is tomorrow’s grandfather,

But the fire in his being will not be the same;

Best times of life gone as he tries to go farther,

His existence then just a flickering flame.


That winter of wear will be on the grandmother;

Child dozing at rest upon bosom and knee;

The wisdom of years looking one on the other,

A tear on the lash for what is to be.


The babe in the cot will replace all before it;

Surely as winds kiss the waves on the sea,

And successions of butterflies will flutter and flit,

As flowers of the summer keep attracting the bee.


Life is a line through the rhythm of time,

Linking the future to deeds that are done,

And what better way than the line of a rhyme,

To reflect on life’s circle and how it is run.


Monty Alexander – 8.9.02

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