Old picture albums capture the grander and joy of yesterday,
all that mattered so much, no longer occupies reality, did it even happen?
Faded back into dust and patchy memories.
Life and death are tied,
to live is to die,
one is not good and the other bad,
they are one.
Generation after generation,
We cling to life as if it was our own.
Desperate for permanence, possession and meaning.
Our great loss is created only by our foolish attempts to possess,
They are not ours to keep only passing moments in an endless continuum,
arising and passing,
in majestic impermanence.
Death is not the end just as birth was not the beginning.
Energy can neither be created or destroyed,
only transferred and transformed.
Love does not die, love is the medium of all life,
transcending both time and space.
Love does not end,
in continuous consciousness.
This great sorrow we feel is tied to our desire to posses the connection and joy we shared, moments that have long ago passed.
Sorrow is our yearning to make the transient permanent.
Sorrow is the defining moment of our attachment to possessive love.
This image of self is all that dies,
our illusion of possession is all that fades.
The forest is weeping.
Each smile only promises sadness,
This “I” enslaves me to loss,
This self guarantees only sorrow.
We build ourselves up so high,
we cry and wail when we fall.
This illusion of individuality can not resist the weight of the universe,
this ignorance can not last,
this delusion will not sustain.
A fabrication of fantasy,
a grand effort made only in vain,
this “separation” only grants the Return.
Can I hold the pain of sorrow in my moments of joyful pleasure?
Can I be whole to live life without fragmentation?
Can I embrace loneliness surrounded by many?
Can I simply accept the flow without attempts of possession or promotion?
Can I accept sorrow and death as I seek joy and life?
Each tear drop was born in laughter,
go into the vacuum of darkness,
smiling at your tears.