Cycles ...

"Humans like to consider everything as linear,

when in reality everything is cyclic."

Robert Black

My first cycle was a tricycle colored a dusty blue similar to my favorite blue sky.  I loved how old it was and the smoothness of the black flattened pedals.  My next cycle was a Shwinn bicycle, both blue and cream, reflecting the clouds and the sky.  The next cycle was a periodical feminine one that propelled me into places I wasn't prepared to go.

As a super sensitive human, I was consciously aware of my cycle spinning emotions inward and outward, sometimes rigid and other times out of control.  I faithfully observed the passing of the moon in its cycle wondering when I would be so predictable and smooth. I longed to gently float across the star studded sky.

My life was not linear as my vibrations could abruptly change paths inflating or deflating.  Nature never aligned  my cycles even when my bleeding stopped.  My 'do over' lessons continuously destroyed and recreated patterns of death and rebirth.  And only in my later years did I learn how the cycle ends.