There’s a cycle for everything under

The sun, beneath the moon, rotating

With the earth, flowing with the wind.

For every time sowing, there is time

Reaping and rejoicing in the result

Of broken back, aching joints, salty

Tears, and painful sweats, which is

Romantically named: hard work.

For every birth, there is death to

Follow, as in every growth there is

Time to bid it farewell.

Seed grows into tiny plant and

Then into one gigantic tree, just as

A baby grows to be a toddler, a kid,

A teenager, a young man, and so on,

And so forth until the day when the

Flesh returning to dust and soil comes.

There is a new beginning for every

Obsolete ending, people say, like a

Student progressing through his education,

Going through exams and tests, to

Eventually prove his worth and pave his

Own path to his version of success and future.

There is cycle in life, in education, in

Nature, in every little thing around us,

From birth to death, from seed to tree, from

Baby to adult, from one ending to a

New beginning, from day to night, from

Enrollment to graduation ceremony, from

One paycheck to another, not forget to mention

The in-between stacks of moldy dishes, piles of

Dirty laundry, obligation to clean the floors,

The walls, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the bathrooms,

Water the plants, check the cars regularly,

The schedule for the kids’ compulsory and

Optional vaccinations, the time of the month

When I need to break the bank and pay for

The school fee, extra-lessons fee, and whatever

It is growing kids will need on daily basis.

It comes down to the cycle in everything,

Of everything, going back and forth from

Starting and ceasing as long as time exists

And human beings continue living.

I’m like a hamster running around inside a cute,

Pink cage containing a bright, yellow wheel

Put there to make me exercise and eventually

Be happy and content during bad, gloomy days.

The cycle, or the wheel on which I run, is

And endless loop with no clear ending

Or beginning, and can only be terminated

By things as final as death and rebirth.

Do you believe in it? Because I don’t.

I can never imagine redoing laundry and

Cooking and cleaning in this lifetime or

The next, or the one after; I just can’t.

What I can imagine is loving and despising

The same kind of people in the similar

Situations in whichever lifetime the deity is

Going to put and form me according to His will.

And for everybody’s sake, it’s better to undergo

This life just once with all cycles that come

With it, the cycles I’m doing everyday, including

The ones that are least to my liking like cooking,

Or repeatedly cleaning up and tidying up things

Which can never be clean and tidy by themselves.

(Yes, I’m looking at you, aideura.)

I’ll enjoy the cycles entrusted to me right now,

which include birth and growth and departure,

And bitter-sweet tears reminiscing the good old

Days and anticipating the unforeseeable future.

I’ll be doing it with one thing in my mind:

This is on my plate right now and I’ll do

My very best to handle it, to complete it, to make

It reach its goals and destination.

For I am just a vessel made by my Maker,

For I am not alive by my own will,

And so will my cycles abide by the rules.

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