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Life is so precious.
Though the leaves that fall in autumn are without number,
Our days here in this place are numbered.
We will not be here forever.
Life is so precious.
The way the plants grow,
Roots clasping red and brown earth,
Leaves reaching up to the sun,
We too must grow up straight and strong,
Our feet planted firmly to the ground,
Our face glowing with the sun’s light.
Where did we come
from to find ourselves here?
In this land of a thousand million histories,
In this tragic mystery of life, how did we get here?
Life is so precious.
They say a single day is worth
All the diamonds,
All the gold,
All the things in this world,
A single day is worth even more than that.
Where do we go from
here?
It is a mystery, you cannot know it.
Yet every single ancestor that came before has left us now,
Gone to that place of mystery.
They say that life
is like
The morning dew on the flower petal;
In an instant, it is dried by the sun.
They say that life
is like
The frost on our breath during the cold winter mornings;
It is here for an instant, then it is gone.
Life is so precious,
Yet what is even more so?
It is the finest whisper of cupids arrow on the wind,
The embrace of two lovers beneath the moonlight,
Or the dust that falls from an angels wings, upon us mortals.
by Alex Bardales
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