By Grant Gibson; ggibson@gte.net
Date: 8 March 1999

Cycles

wildflowers bloom on a mountainside,			
as icy waters on their tumbling ride,			
flow in haste to meet the Sea,				
on a cycle that will always be.				

cycles, cycles every place,
even in my life, I face,
the fact that cycles often race
with no regard to proper pace.

so I was born and grew up fast,
and now I'm free to love at last,
and need you to complete the chain
of the cycle that is my name.