The world is cyclical, but not circular. Spirits cluster like fireflies, seeking the familiar, with which to glow and play eternally.

The coil of time and space
Moves at a steady pace
Returning to the place
Where all began
Where family awaits
Behind the whitewashed gates
Unlocked, that indicates
That you are home
The door has opened wide
Entranced, you step inside
The house where you once cried
When left alone
So many years have passed
So fleeting and so fast
But you are home at last
To only dust
You climb the bedroom stair
To see if someone’s there
And slowly, in despair
You know they’re gone
But then are whispers heard
You strain to hear the word
As memory is stirred
From deep in mist
Bright shadows then appear
And loved ones held so dear
Come close and love is here
And you are home