Spiralling
At times we feel that
our longest years on earth
are but milliseconds
of another birth;
are we then to wince in pain
or grin with mirth
for whatever shame
or pride it's all worth?
or have we been
to this planet banished
from a paradise
that has long vanished,
with nary an inkling
that our wandering
is but a round-about,
slow-motion spiralling?
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