Flames
How do you pick up the riddles of life,
the reason for every step,
and the purpose of every breath.
When in all, you realize,
that everything is,
like flames and shadows,
of no root and of no defined tomorrow,
dancing to the tune of the mundane,
yet with no reason of it own,
dust and shadows, good and ugly,
will all fade away.
But may we have the heart,
to appreciate the opportunity to us given,
to thread even once more, the path of life.
Bringing together, every appropriation of the past,
forgetting the losses;
holding on to lessons from mistakes,
and aiming for the best ahead.
And in all, not forgetful,
that the Potter is worthy of cognition.
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