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