We Die We Live
I die, you die.
Mourners come, mourners cry.
Memories made, memories gone.
New memories of a new born.
From dust to Earth.
From womb to land.
The cycle of life, easy to understand.
We work we live, we drink we give.
As the flesh ages, wrinkles distinctive.
Now we are back at it again,
Weaken bones and Golden age Homes
Walking Canes and reading glasses
Slowing in movement as time passes.
Grand and great grand about our feet
While arrangements made for beautiful wreath.
Now the cycle begins a new
As the body becomes useless and the soul finds a new
The mourners are back
Pastor in black
Now the flesh has died and a baby has born
For the spirit of man to be reborn.
© 2019 Clive Williams