History
Is constantly written.
Without direction,
We fall victims
To the stillness
Of indecision;
With it,
An inner compass
Conducts a symphony
To life’s pulsing rhythm.
Aimless,
Our path is trapped,
Ending up
An empty scribble;
The patience
Of perseverance
To resolve
Death’s riddle:
“What steadily comes that’s already gone?”
Gives birth
To the sincere handwriting
Of eternal wisdom:
“A river’s grandeur attests to the greatness of its source.”
The last quotation is from The New Human Revolution, volume 1, page ix.
Awesome muy Bueno Pepe…