by A. Abdul Wardak
It’s like water that runs through the river of existence, through the valley of life, never to return.
It’s like the flowers of spring that become dust among other dusts, never to be found again.
It’s like the rolling waves–an end and a beginning that never stops.
It’s like the end of the day that brings the night, and the night which brings the day…
The passage of Time: for some it’s gone, for some it’s to come.
It’s what you have and what you don’t–a gift given, a gift taken…
Time has passed me more than once on the pathway of life: the faster the run, the quicker the time.
The sun rises or the sun sets, lightness or darkness, sadness or happiness, good or bad…
All becomes a memory I have stepped on or walked away from time and time again.
Is it that to know the end is to know the beginning?
Time is what I don’t know; it passes me as I walk by, consciously or unconsciously.
Yet I smile, for life–a brother or a sister is a cup to drink from, a cup to hold, so …
Smile for the day you have received; All that belongs to you is a gift.
Smile for the moment it comes to you, before it’s gone.
Smile for it gives you a memory every time it leaves you.
Smile for the feeling that you own the world without a border to it.
In every corner you have a sister and a brother.
Smile, for life is a cup to drink from, a cup to hold.