Rebirths – a poem

Rebirths

Life is full of rebirths –
An endless cycle
Of rebirths.
Each a new start,
A new set of opportunities,
A further set of hopes.

Rebirths
Each day
As the eyes open
Into a new world
And we see it again
Reborn
From the oblivion.
Recreated
Out of our minds.

Rebirths
Each year
As the world
Is born again.
Green shoots
Thrust upwards
Into the strengthening light
To brighten
The dead
Skeletal brown.

Opher 26.12.2018

Sleep is the little death from which we are reincarnated anew each and every day – refreshed and revitalized.
Is it the same universe?
Who knows?
Each morning is a rebirth – a new set of opportunities.
Each year the sun ebbs and the leaves fall. The world becomes brown and dead. Skeletal trees raise their fingers into the sky on the horizon – reaching for warmth and light.
Out of the brown soil and twigs green shoots give hope for the resurrection of life.

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