The Circle of Life

I picked up the throw off the arm of the chair
I thought, why fold this, to unfold it again
I thought, I will remember that before I fold it next time.
Then I thought, if that’s the case,
Then why do I stand, only to sit again
Why clean the house, only to dirty it again
Why breath in, only to breath out again
Why sleep, only to wake up again
Why seek happiness, only to be sad again
Why take life, only to die again
Why do anything, anything at all.
And the reason is, there is nothing else to do.
This is the process called life.
We begin, to end, to begin again
We start, to stop, only to start again
We win, we lose, only to win again
We get up, we fall down, only to get up again
We are born, then we die, only to be born again.
This is life, the circle of life
No beginning and certainly no ending
Only a process of eternal continuity

Joyce Louison
Joyce 
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