I cannot trace,
I have not found mention
Of the notion in yoga,
That there is anything beyond this life.
This is unimportant--
Whatever you believe,
Why not make the most of each instant,
Each second you draw breathe upon this earth?
A life unlived seems wasted.
A life trapped by fear,
Seems irrelevant--
There is only this moment.
Our hearts beat
Our breathe flows
In and out
Like the tides.
There is beauty in this simple pleasure--
A pleasure we cannot capture in words.
A beauty purely sensory
That can only be felt and experienced by living each day as your last.
We cannot know what the future holds,
We cannot know what life will bring,
But we always have this--
The present, so make it count!
Still flying
10 years ago
