The Circle of Earth

The Circle of Earth:

As nature speaks to us, revealing its nature.
In beauty among thorns, her unbroken voice
Of the universe. The ending scene is yet unknown.
Her inception has become a perpetual devotion.
The heart DNA mirrors through the kaleidoscope, here where chaos remains in memories, while spreading its arms wide in parallel, powers like a predator—the heartbeat of life.
 Black noise, white silence, while resting on its axis.
 Closing the circle, cosmic murmurs amid a celestial waltz, those ambers of yesterday glow slowly, grow deep and. Guided by the strings of purpose, galactic beyond this recurring trauma to joy, always giving and receiving nothing, we can hold on to. Those who are dead are never truly gone. There, look, in the trees, water, the fire in the eyes.
 Of a newborn? The stain on your unironed shirt. Memories speak. This great sea set in motion. It surrounds us like a wasp nest, near the spider’s web.
The circle of Earth. Out of the grave, we've been warned.
So weep not for them, for they are in the wind.
Will our hearts now sing again for them?
Making sense of things.
Around this universe, dark but beautiful.
Though a purple winter.
God help us all! 
  On this true and only nature.
  The planet Earth is gone but not forgotten.