Dear Life,
With life, comes death. Hate- Love. As what is and what is not. What goes up, must come down. One day they will die, as we all will die. When one heart stops beating, another will take their first breath of air. As always; with death, comes life.
It is not acceptable, to just live like a zombie and rush through life. We have to truly LIVE. We have to walk, and rejoice in our observation of what truly is beauty. Nothing is ever the same. Be silent, and listen. Really listen to what humanity and nature is expressing. Because nothing is as important as the wisdom and understanding; of others- who have lived before us.
"There is a time to be born, and a time to die; A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up; a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn and a time to dance; a time to gain, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak; a time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace." (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8)
This verse alone is one of the most important things we will ever need to know, about the life we all lead. When we feel like breaking down, that is the time when we hold our heads up and march right thru what life is throwing at us. Because even the best fall down sometimes. When life is showing us the bad, we must smile and laugh for all the good that goes unnoticed. When they die-do not mourn, dance! And be merry for the life they have lived. When we hate, we lose a chance to love; and living in the world we do, we need every ounce of love we can get.
With hope; doubt will follow. At times life seems so cruel, and will take our last and only hope. But hope, like a Phoenix, waits to be re-born from its ashes. Like a Phoenix, hope, will be our light- our flame in the darkness. Like a Phoenix’s tears, hope will heal all wounds. Like a Phoenix, hope will find us.
“As water reflects a face, so a man’s heart reflects the man.” Look at our reflection and what do we see. The lips, where our words flee from, do they speak with honesty? The eyes; our looking glass. They are the window to our souls. Do they see more then they let on, not speaking up with those lips- which speaks with truth? Do they see the small individual things? Our hands, do they protect and love those we hold? Our legs, do they walk with haste? Or do they glide where life takes them? Our stomach, do they feed until full, or feed until satisfied, and feed the rest to the one’s who have nothing? Promise that the following will never be forgotten; a good name is better than fine perfume.
Love,
Death
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