One day, it will happen-
Certain as spring
Steady as snowflakes.
There will be no going back:
The tide will not turn
As leaves will not rise-
Yet it will hold it's own calm;
The pattern of breathing
Or an owl in soundless flight.
There will be a closing to it, to this
The curtain will fall down, down from the eaves
Whilst the book snaps sharply shut.
Bittersweet sadness? Yes.
But not the end. Not forever.
Just as the earth reawakens,
Just as the cycle continues,
We will meet again.