Cycles
She rose above her surroundings,
As if by nature,
Hair of burnished bronze
Seemingly hand rubbed to a fine luster.
Eyes blue and bright
As the skies overhead -
Sparkling eyes
That mirror the meadows dew.
She was large-hearted,
And merry, and frank
Because of her fearlessness,
Of her consciousness of power.
Yet change set in,
With prosperity and adversity,
New faces coming,
Old ones departing.
And the next cycle,
On which none can impact,
Creates a new colony,
Fortunes repeated from the last.
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