Body Ails Yet Spirit Soars

With elements of earth, water, air, ether, and fire The body is framed like a bundle of paradoxes. The soul, the lord, and the master of this self soar higher. When its mission, herein, is accomplished as flummoxes Diseases, like swarms of honey bees, enwrap this physique. These, like water on lotus leaves, don't affect the spirit. Though veins, bones, and nutrients are full, the physique seems weak. Existence, herein, passes like a clandestine claret. Deep sleep drubs the body, but the spirit is on the move. Beyond mountains and valleys, like a tender breeze, it blows From all that is known to the unknown, narrow furrow grove Journeying towards perfection, like a fountain, it flows Entering another body, the soul gladly exists. Physique, as the spirit's wagon, wins over all the twists…