I look at the old trees which have shed their leaves, with brittle trunks and branches, with their barks scotched and in decay and notice how they struggle in the storms and shiver in the harsh winters and  then a deep sense of desolation sets in my heart---there's no turning back the clock--

I am like them but they are more sturdy and will outlive me.

It's time to rest, to have no more desire, to let go of every memory and to walk gently and peacefully into the darkness of no return---the last note of the symphony has ended and to have heard it is itself sweet eternity.