Beginning and End and Beginning Again

My life is a long time to me,
But short to the whole world,
An individual, but not isolated from what I see,
A part of this infinite world,
The cycle that keeps on turning,
The linear, cyclical, path of time,
I am born to die, and I die to be born and living,
I guess I may be in my prime,
But still, anything at the right moment can kill me,
For I am but a fragile human being,
Given the ability to plan ways to extend my life,
No matter how trapped, or how freeing
Is this long, but short life.
I will be missed by those who's lives I've touched,
And probably no one else will remember me,
No matter through how many lives I've rushed,
How could I be remembered by billions of
people
Who've never even met or seen me?
A human life I've lived, indistinguishable
As I've tried to make my mark, but like a forest tree,
Am missed for the forest of humanity,
For there is just too much to see and do,
And it gets overwhelming, filling our senses to capacity,
But like a speck of dust upon the wind, I too,
Will continue to float on and on,
Through every scene, hiding not in lies,
But lying amongst truth, so a life I won't mourn,
And won't be an empty husk of countless tries.