I am a drop of discomfort and sweat,
a shaky grip given to steady hands.
A cry for living to any child’s bet.
Birth begets time we all sink in as sand.
Like the promise of spring in the mid fall,
green leaves laughing in brown, red and yellow.
Old age looms, a message of truth for all.
The fruit of such wisdom is a halo.
Only the body dies to those that know
we are all dust within the winds of time,
where we will land only Right View will know
the result of our actions in time.
A truth you can only let go to know
the truth within everything you don’t know.
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