There Is No Life but Your Own

Finding the treasures of old, we delight in the seeking. Expending our efforts, we build our reserves for the next. Alone at last, we contemplate our future and create the life we are to lead.

Events unfold in their proper time and place. The only surprise is what we deny.

Continuously creating we find destruction and when we become exhausted with effort, we begin to release our bondsof containment. Nothing can set us free but we ourselves.

Striving for a better life, we ensure the continuity of death. Engaging experience, we fill ourselves with victory and smile in deficiency. Alone at last, we find that everything exists for our own pleasure. Diving into the pool of radiance, we become the pleasure we seek.

Expressing our hopes and fears our storehouse ever remains full and complete. Passing the Torch of Freedom, we engage ourselves.

There is no life but your own and in the completeness of knowledge, we seek. Not all roads take us where it is we want to be, but all roads lead us where it is that we should be. Under your feet, journey after journey rise and fall to meet and greet your way. Setting the path before you, you walk.

There is but one journey and one destination. It starts from here and ends when you have arrived. It is not the journey, but how it is that you get there. Experience is the reward and ion it's accumulation, we grow larger and larger.

Perhaps a picture book will serve just as well. Perhaps the telling of tales, of victory and woe will surely take the prize.

The gods are pleased.