Nothing stands.
Before any arising
Lies some falling.
As if each instant
Contains the seeds
Of life and death.
Yet,
We go on believing
In stone-like living
As if each moment
Is already indeed
Fixed and set.
We may see
All coming
All passing
Still we long
For something gone...
As if fear
Settles deep
In mind's corners
When faced
With the breaking
Of new matters.
Yet, not even this stands...
For the fall will come
Then the rising...
Until nothing stands...again!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Love,
Sylvie
Original Post
You remind me of Deepak's latest book, the cover being a butterfly, and he talks about how it eats the carcass of the centipede... a life, a death, a life, the age old cycle! 
