533 – Cycles

The hands
Pursue each other
In their endless dance
Around the clock face.

Days, hours,
Minutes, seconds,
Slowly unroll themselves
Into the now.

An endless circle,
Cleverly hidden
Under the illusory appearance
Of a straight line.

We keep walking,
Always looking forward,
Until we reach the same spot,
And call it ‘anniversary’.

The hands
Keep dancing,
The days
Keep passing.

Day and night,
Happiness and sorrow,
Life and death,
Laughter and tears.

They all pass
To be revisited again,
If we just wait
Long enough.

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