In time's indifference to life, there lies a pledge of something eternal - of the unceasing movement of the universe
towards perfection.
What happens in death is beyond our comprehension but, what we do know is that whatever happens it is the only only way it can be,
and that way is perfection and perfection is beauty.
Everything is beautiful except, perhaps, what we think of ourselves when we forget our human dignity and the eternal
cause of our existence.
She has no motion now, no force
She neither hears nor sees
She rolls in earth's diurnal course
With rocks, with stones, with trees
Everything comes from one source and that one source is present in everything. All is one, all is perfection, all is love.
Everything, everywhere is waiting for time to carve it into perfection. It can be no other way.
Everything. Everywhere.
towards perfection.
What happens in death is beyond our comprehension but, what we do know is that whatever happens it is the only only way it can be,
and that way is perfection and perfection is beauty.
Everything is beautiful except, perhaps, what we think of ourselves when we forget our human dignity and the eternal
cause of our existence.
She has no motion now, no force
She neither hears nor sees
She rolls in earth's diurnal course
With rocks, with stones, with trees
Everything comes from one source and that one source is present in everything. All is one, all is perfection, all is love.
Everything, everywhere is waiting for time to carve it into perfection. It can be no other way.
Everything. Everywhere.
