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…
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