Every Ending is a Beginning

There is a saying that goes around here
That every end is a new beginning.
When I hear that I used to wonder,
“What do they mean Mama?”
With big round eyes and small little hands
That clung to her shirt and begged
A story or attention.

There was a time I had a good friend.
She knew many things
All of which she considered useless.
She always wondered ‘why are we here?’

I think of that question at times,
I sit in a peaceful place,
Down a gully or near a stream
With a lovely breeze
Which blows clear air around me.
And then I wonder:
“Well why not be here?”
In this place and time
To enjoy all of this life and light.

My friends say I am slow moving,
My mom says that I’m lazy.
People who don’t know me say
That I am slightly mental.
But I say I am not those things.
I say I am simply enjoying
The way that the light hits trees,
Or the way rain splashes the upturned face.

Someday my time here will end
In this fair and mighty land.
But it does not mean it is the end.
For my end on this earth must mean
That I will arrive somewhere else,
Another journey,
Another beginning.
And now I finally understand,
The old saying:
“Every End is a Beginning.”