Some dream of the past

like little cherries

that greet early spring.

They cleave to it in their dreams

and hope tomorrow leads them there,

Not day by day

or by the way the birds

may follow,

But by how flowers reach for the sun

against the envy of the stars.

Some have given their all,

not to this world,

But for that nod of satisfaction

from the father within,

That births us when we find ourselves

probably on a long walk

or off course at a jeering world.

We become our own mission

And the chants and smiles

matter no more

Leaving a world so full of soul

But with something else

to whine about.

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Author’s Note: For some of us, when we are sad, we create. That’s how we cry and bare our soul.

Until next time,

I will be here.

– M. V. Echa

M. V. Echa

M. V. Echa

My message is the universe, my truth is the universe, and this blog contains all you need to know about the universe, from the true nature of reality to the long-sought unity of the cosmos — which is the big picture!