The cycle of life so often cruel, 
sometimes full of promise, 
often out of our control. 

We’re all predators and prey,
just hoping to make it through the day.

The inching of a caterpillar 
as it tries to navigate the screen. 

The fading of my mother 
as death gives her no refrain.

The squeals of a newborn
as it tries to suck your thumb.

The stumble of a child
afraid and on the run.

The squeak of baby birds 
hungry in the tree.

The cackling of black grackles 
as their look for a meal that’s free.

The blooming of an April bud
glad to start another day.

The storm that shows no mercy
as it takes all prisoners away.

The scar that blends so quickly
with wrinkles on my face.

The ending of an illness 
that leaves without a trace.

The smile of a sunset 
as it finally goes to bed.

The floods that drown a city
filling everyone with dread.


The cycle of life ebbs and flows 
like the tide, 

Sometimes building mounds of sand 
standing side by side. 

Sometimes an errant wave 
yanking it goodbye.

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