only the appearance is fragile - life itself is a continuous breakdown of one thing coming from a particular form to find itself again formless, perhaps in the midst of emerging once more in the guise of something new. A spring leaf is seasonal in it's fresh offering of green, but is no less vibrant in it's dance within an autumns wind. Seen as a separate object from the tree, the leaf is nothing more than death released from the branch of life - and yet to earth and tree it is a vital ingredient needed to continue their own play of form.
And so there comes another season.
I have no idea when an autumn wind will call for me - and what form will be next in my own coming seasons. But in essence, I am no different than a leaf, tree, or earth. My appearance is fragile, already in process of becoming something less than what it was, and too one day this form will feed the ground.
Life will continue.
...emerging in the guise of something new
~
Peace,
Eric
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