The cycle of life is not complete in the breath we take in
and out,
Neither in the rigour of the day nor the comfort of the
twilight
In the silence within nor noise without,
In the solace of hope
nor in bout of despair
In the acquaintance of the moment at hand nor time forgone
In the wisdom acquired nor folly gained
In calling of days of old nor whisper of beckoning days,
In the sight of the sun nor dream of the night
In sigh of abandonment nor shout of valour
In the friends gained nor those we lost
In love shared nor in
pressure against our keenest desire,
In harmony of soul nor in the pleasure of the flesh….
But within the debth of our being do we thrive living out
our identity
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