Today at church, I heard them whisper
They talked about birth and life
And how death ends it all.
I stood in front of the altar,
Pondering,
This cycle of life, being born and dying.
An infant opens his eyes to the world
For the first time.
Eyelids flutter, his fingers clench and unclench
And as he takes his first breath,
His world comes to life.
Life is pulsating, dynamic and transient,
Like waves that meet the shore.
Your footprints on the sand, still,
A mark left on the face of humanity,
Another soul in a throng of humankind,
Living, breathing, existing.
Distant calls beckoning.
His time consumed as it passes by.
Meet his love, commit until death do us part,
Make a life, and hence another life makes its way from start.
Death bed ventures slowly sinking,
His victory, his fall, his treasures, his secrets untold,
When death beckons, no place these hold.
Cycle of life
Birth to death.
God or no god,
This life holds value,
In what you do.
To give back,
And not expect
A thank you.
This cycle of life,
Of birth and death,
Is not just about
Breathing, living
And existing,
But about doing,
Giving,
And loving.