Birth

Written [08/07/09]

One with the Source we are.
Then, like a bud of a tree,
We go through the folds of the matter,
To blossom amidst the forms
Of humans, of thoughts, of possessions.
We play that intricate game.
We cycle through hills and recessions
To find their essence the same.
Westrive to create our purpose
Then we strive for it to manifest.
When it's here, the mission accomplished,
We come back to the source for some rest.
And the cycle begins all over,
Through the folds, to the lessons and life.