THE FLAME IN THE LOTUS (cont.)

XV.
Cold roses on my grave won´t wake me.
The kisses they blow to the dirt
Won´t bring me back.
There will come a time when this body
Will fall, and not rise again.
It is the way for us all.
At the beginning, the skies are clear,
In the middle, we raise tents to cover us from the storms,
And at the end, they lay cold roses on brown dirt.
From beginning to end a million moments flash by
And yet, we depend so much on this, this
Chunk of meat, to get it all?
We come from Infinite Light and Infinite life-
Don´t get so stuck on finite bags of bones-
Tomorrow, we´ll all sing again,
Once again, in Infinite Light and Infinite Life.
Still, cold roses on warm earth will smell so sweet!

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