Our bodily life is like a flash
Of lightning existing only
To return to its source --
Timeless profoundness.
It's like a spring growth
That shrinks in autumn
After producing a crop.
Waste no thoughts on,
As a progression of this
Has no purpose: coming
And going strictly on time,
It's like a morning dewdrop
Fallen into the clear waters
From blade of a cut down sedge.
Ron