Short Cyclical Poems

Unequivocal
Divinity, eyes-shut Spring
Weathers winters’ all!...

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As unforgiving

   nature may appear sometimes,

          autumn leaves return...



*...

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Awake elements

Drouth wrapped in cyclical flow

Fire... Air... Water... Earth 





(My third attempt at haiku)...

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Forgiveness

Rain, river, oceans.
Endless cyclical motion.
Hurt washed from mountains.

by Martin Braun
July 29, 2023...

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Eternity without
Beginning or end.
God is timeless existence,
Time is viewed cyclically.
Symbol called Ouroboros, 
A serpent eating its tail
means cyclical or self-reflexivity.
 
Adikaran 18/10/12....

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Life flows in cyclical rhythm
biorhythm
cycles of change
time rearrange

In prime of life what shall we choose?
Wear the best shoes?
Pies in the skies?
Wide open eyes!

Accepting that I'm getting old
my thoughts turn bold
less compromise
I'm in my eyes

...

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The leaves dancing on the trees. The crinkling steps, the gusts, the natural silence. The unimposing mountains. Laze. Existence that validates itself. Ephemeral, cyclical, beautiful. An old distant friend that you may never truly know. 

I love you because what else would I do...

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On the seventh ray
Of the fourteenth sun
Death hath come twofold
Arose a Titan in this age
Amidst this nimbus looms darkness
Betwixt the ash and sage

Approach cyclical ritual
Dousing wings in feral flames
Latent gravidity does surmise
For upon my resurrection
Eos I shall rise...

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There is nothing like the melancholy
That lives deep within me
At times I struggle with this ravaging beast
As it tries to consume me whole
But nothing could ever overpower a soul
As the battle ends
And the defeated beast
Crawls back into hibernation
I wonder how long until
Its next cyclical appearance
And the level of its intensity...

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Dawn drinks daylight.
Sunshine spreads supremely.
Briskly brightens bays and beaches. 
Restless readers reclined rise up.
Freshness flashes fair faces.
Wildlife awakens watches.
Life loves lusciously.
Man makes much merriment.
Responsibility reckons…repeatedly.
Continuity continues its cyclical connection.

© November 14, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen...

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Boundless, affixed upon the instant beyond the limit of my gaze.

Shapeless, undulating fractal expanse reveals as observed from without the mosaic aria.

Origin, speculations abound upon the fabrics cyclical essence.

Then, the instant proceeding the moment of origin, elegance.

Now, is as then the instant, the elegance of that moment.

© veritatem voluntatem 2015?...

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Beside a singing Brook
Winter breath lingering
Ghost of Exhalation
Drifting slowly wild
Joining Stream's cyclical pulse
Infusion with my blood through sound
Mind becomes the flow
Singing subconscious to the Sea
Where waves kiss my fractured thoughts
I dance as one 
Within a vast heaving womb
Re-born from storm's revelry
To stand within the lightning
Back beside a singing Brook
...

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Some are clearly Buddhist
while others are painted egos,
like Catholic effigies.

Species preach
their own cyclical creed;
melodies as pretty
as a Sufi poem
or gritstone in the zealot's caw.

It is the reverberation
of light and sound
that we recognize,
the feathered mantra's,
Psalms for the solar plexus.

Then there are the faithless calls
of mockingbirds -

there's always a 'then'....

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Dew dots the folicles of the earth,
raised in static praise of what came and left,
what dreams did come. 

Blades drank down to dirt and marrow,
parched and harrowed, juandiced in the light of Ra.
But he has gone the way of Tiamat.

Now may stray tears enter the cyclical fray;
the dividing line, terminus heralding the coming of the day.
A vintage season, come to stay and greave for the end of an age....

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not neapolitan
pizza with just basil
cheese and a marinara
sauce sweet but oh so spicy

in Chaucer's time she
would have been a day's
eye as the sun crosses the
sky with all the flower heads

following failing 
to capture her true
light as the day eases
into night and so to sleep

we become 
a daisy chain
completing the
cyclical but not to

be the 
forgetful
change of
life and our

limbs...

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Spurned faces muck in the dust
Raised by ceaseless motion
Of cyclical concerns

Waves settle in lapped sounds
Falling into synchronicity
On the line of the horizon

Plummet line sun draws tight things
Moon soothes caress, balm of the earthbound creatures

Clouds fly slow fast
Petrified in yawning quick glory of surprise
Breakthroughs

Drawn up and through
Splayed upon the dimensionless
Foreground...

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Dorrie Ann left Herman again.
It happens on a cyclical schedule.
October, January, April and July.
A quad-yearly thing.
We cousins take her in.
Knowing in a day or two Herman will show up.
Sweet, with candies and maybe flowers.
He will sweet talk her back home
because he is tired of frozen food.
Dorrie Ann could be annoying after the
second day but none of us know this because
Herman’s pattern is cyclical too....

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Solitude of eternity
Permeates both living and dead
Dawn rises…dusk falls…dawn rises 
The cycle of day and night continues
Only knowing apathy’s companionship
Realization beyond fingertips clutch
Always upon the gusting winds of time
As death claims His prey yet again
Within that final rasping of breath
That hot abrupt moment of nothing
A cyclical repetition 
And the song of eternity’s solitude
Begins…yet again...

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          History may be cyclical,
          but nothing is the same...

             Life lives with time,
            but also against time...

        Everything follows the same process,
                similarities exist,
           it may not even change,
         but everything is different...

PS    SEARCH CHANSON
        RIEN N'A CHANGÉ ET POURTANT TOUT ESR DIFFERENT
                SINGS - MOUSTAKI GEORGE...

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Ooze be reality upon the page

Betwixt the courtship of pen and paper

Reveries aid in sustaining spare sage

Refrain he must from such foolish capers



As cyclical evidence he distributes

Yearning to establish a solid voice

Such fervent vocals shan't be silenced mute

Quite a conscious, yet such a wise choice



Devil's dearest a portrayal inclined

Gambling upon his impending death wish

Deeming his existence as asinine

Within spooky graveyards he shall relish...

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Life is repititious,
cyclical and enduring,
So predictable that
history happens over and 
over again,
Breaking the cycles of
dysfunctionality is not easy,
Patterns of familiarity are hard to shake,
If terror and criticisms provide results
it becomes the norm,
People will use those actions until they are worn,
Destroying the life forces around them,
as a nuclear war demolishes when poison
surrounds,
The circular motions perishes everything
growing out of the ground....

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The light always
Reveals the shadow
For what it really is.

A fight always
Ends in victory 
For the good that’s within.

The sun always
Gives life here on Earth
Its miraculous existence.

After death there are
Forms of rebirth.
Eternal cyclical creation.

The world always
In bouts of conflict and peace.
Evolution, reincarnation.

A soul always 
Lives on, while the body remains.
Spirit compensates and the body decays.

The truth always
Within evolving beings....

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I live in the moment but not positively 
Not a sway more like a giant tsunami 
Letting the moment completely rob me

Tunnel vision so stubbornly debilitating 
A cyclical process which keeps baiting 
Against my weak mind it keeps grating

Searching for answers to escape this rut
Fruitless attempts with nothing clear cut
Why is my mind so hopelessly shut?

A one track existence cuts like a knife
Trying to live a so called normal life
Permit myself free of this chronic strife
...

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How does the soul enter Heaven?
Through ways, I believe, that are dark and effervescent,

For the soul, a thing of light and solemnity, 
must cross through its opposites in anonymity 

Controversial though my ideas are, according to the apocryphal biblical texts which some take too far, I believe this must be true

Life is a sojourn of symmetry,
A cyclical process of repetitious histories

We rise and begin as do we fall and end.
These are my beliefs on how the soul enters heaven....

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