The Never-ending Cycle

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There were shimmering flames. Outside, there was a fierce storm. Outside the house, the ancient oak tree was trembling violently. It was the same tree that, in her early years, she had enjoyed sitting beside. She can well recall doing her writing and reading under that tree's shade. She was actually inspired by it for her very first piece of writing. She learned to value art as a result.

Under the watchful eyes of that particular tree, she learned to love herself, her work, and her interests. It became her strength whenever she used to feel down and no one was around to support her. She used to give it a hug and experience her mother's love for a child. All of the memories came flooding back to her today as she slept curled up on her thin blanket. Her eyes were a mirror reflecting her life.

Her coffee mug was empty by the bed as she strolled down memory lane. The floor was littered with broken glass fragments. Her untidy hair was slightly grazing her cheeks. She had the appearance of a tired fox with silver eyes. A self-assured fox, she served and received from the woods, her only home and safe haven, throughout her lonely existence in the forest.

And it was all over with a single howl of the wind. Her flame went out. Her breasts no longer rose and fell. All of the memories and ideas came to an abrupt stop. Still, the sound of the creaking chair and the flowing water persisted. The sounds persisted, but no one was around to hear them. Her silence had given rise to these voices. A farewell kiss of tears for her yearning soul. It downpoured. All that remained were her recollections and the tear-filled green eyes of the observing oak. The oak tree that witnessed a life begin and flourish will never forget her, even though no person will ever remember her.

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An entire world gets destroyed along with a person when they pass away. The world that was in their hearts, the world they imagined, and the world they saw with their own eyes. Still, there's only one thing left. The imprint such individuals make on a much wider globe. The impression they make on someone else's life. Life perseveres no matter how many universes are destroyed. The newer worlds are made possible by the previous ones. Thus, the never-ending process keeps going.

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