Circle has no beginning, no end…draw it around a life.
Within, it holds myriad elements…people, events, choices, vows, loves-losses-regrets, seasons turning kaleidoscopically.
Bedelia’s life was circle that began abandoned, already saddened, unattractive, in late autumn…leaves falling, becoming brown, dry and curling.
She blossomed in spring, reigned during summer—all her dreams an open gate.
Then it slammed shut, a frozen wall…her hoarfrost heart prematurely wintered.
Decades passed, another autumn: her ravaged soul was dusty chapel window through which she peered dimly, alone…watching leaves fall, become brown, dry and curling.
©Rhen Laird/Cobbled Contemplations, 2020 ~ All rights reserved.