Nothing disappears although
it is transformed.
Refashioned into something new
from that which has been worn.
Evaporation, degeneration, erosion
and such,
Take what has been used and renews,
thank you much!
We cannot deny that all that dies
is reborn,
Perhaps not the same but in a
different form.
As for ourselves we believe we
disappear.
Ashes to ashes it causes us great
fear.
We fret and we fight against that
which awaits,
Thinking that 'our' lives are the ones
that abate.
It seems a great err to embrace
this belief,
Standing apart from the mountains
or a leaf,
Creations nature is to continue in
it's way,
Each eve the sun sets, each morn
a new day.
Give in to the truth that sings on
the wind,
For each death in this life a new
shall begin...
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Submission Name: Mountains And Leaves
