Although life is wide and great.
There are times when
I am stuck in the mud.
What should I do?
Should I stay stuck.
Allowing the winds of winter
to drive me into nothing.
Until I become a
mound of aging bones.
Or should I try and struggle free.
Until my soul turns into an icon.
Drifting lightly and
landing on the bank.
I think the way of all
flesh is in the struggle.
Then, comes the lotus.
With the seeds of understanding.
​A place where nothing
remains ​of a life that was.