Drops of Truth

“What is the life of a mute bird, only to sing on the day it dies?  Is it a blessing?  Is it a curse?  Is it’s whole life meaningless for what happens on that final day?  Or was its years of sadness merely a culmination of blood and tears to mark its passing with one glorious, triumphant song?” 

When one man’s reality is but one facet of the gem that is truth, what is real?  What is fake?  What will last, and what will fade?  For we, who are so caught in the flow of time, ever to comprehend, let alone truly embrace, that which is true?  If truly merely exists in the eye of the beholder, then is there really but one truth?  Or is there no solidarity to that which is ‘truth’, and it is merely what me make it to be?  Does anything truly last?  Are all things meant to fade?  Are our accomplishments merely a mound of sand, made to be whisked away in the withering winds of time?  Or is it that each of us build but a single stone of that which is humanity, and as we each pass, that stone remains, for those that come after us to build upon, slowly but surely, until from that one stone rises a mighty temple, never to erode, never to wither, never to fade.  Perhaps then, when we have moved beyond this stream of time, we shall see how the single ripple of our droplet of life will have effected so much, and changed so many for the good, and for the bad.  And when we realize this, can a life truly be for naught?  If a life affects but one other, does this other life not in turn affect others?  Does not the ripple from one in turn enhance the next, slowly moulding, bit by bit, a wave of change that affects all that flow within that stream?  In our simple, clouded lives, where we can see naught but that which lies before us, can we truly understand the implications of our choices?  Can we truly grasp the finality of our decisions, how they will affect us, and how they will affect others? 

If you remember nothing else, remember this:  Your life is truly but a drop in the Ocean of Stars, nothing more, nothing less.  But it is you that will choose how that drop shall fall.  Will it fall on the cold ground, splashing loudly, but affecting nothing?  Or will it fall into the depths of the sea, softly, where that quiet pulse will travel to the farthest corners of creation, gently flowing over all things, shifting them, and changing them?  One day, the rain shall come for us all, and we each will have to choose our path.  Believe in yourself, and craft your own destiny.  Don’t fear fate.




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