The imprint at the top of the recent StreetProphets diary Rhythms and cycles of life by teacherken reads Sun Apr 9th, 2006 at 07:20:42 PDT. Although I missed it at the time, I've seen it now. That's what matters, for me. This time is my here and now. And this is my time of reflection.

As I first scanned through teacherken's post, it brought to mind a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow called "The Tide Rises, The Tide Falls." If you've not seen the good teacher's diary, please go read through it. It reminded me of the Longfellow piece, and thus served as the preliminary inspiration for this piece. As I reflect upon the words of Longfellow and expand upon the thoughts they elicit within me, I hope others will see why I was inspired to title this piece the way I have.

We are creatures of habit, in a world ruled by the ebb and flow of the patterns, rhythms, and cycles of nature. As our galaxy slowly turns in space, our solar system moves gracefully along, the planets and other bodies rotating in an eternal dance. The Earth courses around the sun in a cycle that lasts roughly twelve months, the moon revolves around the Earth in a pattern that takes approximately one month, and the planet itself spins on its axis in a period of about twenty-four hours. Throughout it all, the heavenly bodies exert their influence, and as day passes to night and back into day, the lunar cycles helps us count the passage of seasons -- and life goes on. Our everyday existence is not ruled precisely by these patterns, and yet even as we find ourselves establishing patterns of our own, we are still held captive to some of the greater underlying rhythms of our environment.

The tide rises, the tide falls,

The twilight darkens, the curlew calls;

Along the sea-sands damp and brown

The traveler hastens toward the town,

And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The start of the poem, the start of a day. Perhaps even the start of a season. The greater cycle has begun, and within it the lesser cycle -- the tide -- completes.

Within our sometimes topsy-turvy tumultuous world, we oft make haste to reach goals and meet deadlines. We do not always stop to acknowledge the passage of time, or the patterns formed by the steady rhythmic changes of things as time inexorably marches onward.

Darkness settles on roofs and walls,

But the sea, the sea in darkness calls;

The little waves, with their soft, white hands

Efface the footprints in the sands,

And the tide rises, the tide falls.

The start of each cycle is like a world born again. Just as when we rise after a good night's sleep and feel refreshed and renewed, so too is the new day's dawn or the first day of season.

The footprints we leave as we move through our lives are fleeting. Our individual passage is not, in and of itself, remarkable or permanent. It is only within the hearts and minds of others that our indelible marks are made; even great works of stone and steel eventually give way to the relentless process of renewal.

The morning breaks; the steeds in their stalls

Stamp and neigh, as the hostler calls;

The day returns, but nevermore

Returns the traveler to the shore.

And the tide rises, the tide falls.

As days, nights, weeks, months, and years go by, the cycles of eternity keep on, keenly unaware of our presence and yet wholly incorporating it.

We are not the most important part of this dance, but neither are we insignificant. While individually we may not stand out and impact our world, together we can move mountains. The cycles of nature call to us, enveloping our lives and delivering us ultimately toward our final rest, where we are once again turned to the stardust from whence we came, and yet -- upon the minds and souls of those whom we have touched -- we still live on. The words, deeds, and actions of our brief time become eternal in the hearts and minds of others, recorded in various forms even as physical evidence of our passage may be erased.

Societies grow, change and transform. Ultimately, they emerge as something wholly different from the form they first held. Either these collections of human consciousness learn from their history and the people who have come before, or fail to grow. Either way -- a death by stagnation, or a "death" by metamorphosis into another form -- the cycle of birth, death and rebirth carries on.

We have the capacity to learn and to grow; as individuals, as groups, as societies and as nations. We will learn the lessons of history and how to recognize the depths to which our honorable intentions can sink, or be doomed to repeat those lessons. If we fail to learn, eventually the cycle will complete, and end.

And the cycles of the eternal shall continue, regardless.