I sit at my window gazing The world passes by, nods to me And is gone.
A dewdrop is a perfect integrity that has no filial memory of its parentage.
The world speaks to me in colors, my soul answers in music.
And because I love this life, I know I shall love death as well.
The human soul is on its journey from the law to love, from discipline to liberation, from the moral plane to the spiritual.
that which is eternal within the moment only becomes shallow if spread out in time.