Cycles

She rose above her surroundings, As if by nature, Hair of burnished bronze Seemingly hand rubbed to a fine luster. Eyes blue and bright As the skies overhead - Sparkling eyes That mirror the meadows dew. She was large-hearted, And merry, and frank Because of her fearlessness, Of her consciousness of power. Yet change set in, With prosperity and adversity, New faces coming, Old ones departing. And the next cycle, On which none can impact, Creates a new colony, Fortunes repeated from the last.