What if I lose what I hold close to my heart?
It makes the loss a deeper, tearing start.
This I possess, a sincere claim I make,
But what if fate should rudely undertake
To capture all I deem beneath my sway?
This life I trace, a breath that slips away.
All things material, or hues that shift and sweep,
A mental chameleon, a waking sleep,
Be they abstract or real, in moments caught,
A temporary hold, so dearly bought.
The grasping ego, devoid of lasting peace,
Finds fleeting comfort in a brief release,
These fragile trinkets we so fiercely crave,
Ignoring lessons that the ages gave.
Possessiveness, a shadow we uncover slow,
Steals the true richness that begins to flow.
And humbling it is, the destined fall,
When what ascends must yield its all.
Yesterday, whose hand did gently bind?
Today, I hold, tomorrow, gone with the wind.
We know the cycle, yet we cannot free
Ourselves from sorrow's clinging decree.
Perhaps the path where attachments cease to grind,
Unveils a deeper peace for the heart and the mind.