The summer breeze wafts past
As I feel the tender leaves
A graceful motion as a butterfly lands
Before I move to warm beach sands
The sun overhead is a warm touch
Chased by a cold, bitter wind
The scent of honeysuckles lingers
Like the callouses on my fingers

A sharp cry overhead
As a hawk finds its prey
The sparrow swoops aware of the threat
Yet escapes to live another day
The predator soars higher up
Into the thermals before finding another
There! A young fledgling found
That will never live to see its mother

The cobblestone beneath my feet
As I stride down the city street
Another ecosystem yet of the Cycle a part
Friends sharing the warmth of their heart
Questions, logic, answers, emotions rage
As in my book's life I turn yet another page
Then I laugh softly and continue to wonder
For no matter where I go, it seems there You are

Penned by my hand on Tisday, the 22nd of Slyphian, in the year 499 MA.