Some dream of the past
like little cherries
that greet early spring.
They cleave 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.

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!