Flowers arranged so proudly,
Cared for so lovingly, have started to droop.
But a pot can give only what it has got.
Flowers which are on display
do have shorter lives.
Sometimes rotted by over cologned water,
or replaced by an over zealous gardener,
Often, simply because its time.
Why to blame or feel sorry?
This is the only way of the world.
Old are always on the heap.
That is how, don’t you know
New shoots do reap.
Truth and nothing other than the truth…
All that blooms must wither
All that once was, will not be…
Coming to terms with this
Is the secret, He revealed to me…
The source of all misery
The source of all dissatisfaction
Lies in denial of impermanence
In holding onto the illusion of permanence…
For only transience is eternal
All that comes, must pass away
Realizing this is lifting the veil
To perceive the truth that will prevail…