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Every morning is a white seed
slipping quietly from the hands of Time
Do I plant it deep in the earth
with attentive care,
or cast it carelessly into the wind?
In truth, what matters on my morning walk
are not how many steps I have taken
What matters is how many smiles
I have managed to place upon another’s lips,
how much sorrow I have helped lift
from someone’s shoulders
When evening comes
it asks me only one question:
How many hearts
did you stand beneath
as a shade?
As age advances,
life does not necessarily grow shorter.
Experience grows deeper
and unnecessary words begin to fall away
The fortresses of ego slowly dissolve
And the heart awakens
to a quiet truth:
What endures is not the space
we occupied in the world,
but the light we left behind
This earth is not a house
someone has given me
It is a stage
upon which every footprint
I leave behind is tested
This life is not a right
bestowed upon me
It is a trust placed in my hands,
entrusted to the way
I choose to walk
The dawn in the east
does not rise anew every single day
Rather, each morning
offers us the chance to become
a new human being
In the end,
Time will not remember
what a person accumulated
it will soon forget
But how much love someone gave
how many hearts they filled with friendship
even the passing wind will remember
And so, when I wake in the morning,
I do not ask for another day
I gather within myself only the courage
to live this very day completely
as a human being.
And when evening comes
and knocks upon my door
my hands will not be empty
In them will remain
the fragrance of a flower
the song of a bird,
a human being’s gratitude,
Another person’s smile
That is enough.
That alone is the meaning
my life gives to living
the significance it lends
to my existence.
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