Purpose

September 10, 2021 by little_sparrow

Clay given form,

Breath in it's nostrils,

Walking, moving,

A purpose placed in it's heart;

Sands of time flow,

Everything shifting, changing,

Nothing permanent -

Everything transient...

Flickering lights,

Burnt out candles.

Amidst all this the race continues

For the persevering and the passionate to win.

Trophies that may fade,

Some will remain.

When the transition is complete,

And life's greatest dream achieved,

In His bosom,

Even the eternal trophies lose sheen

As the heart is finally satisfied.

Filled.

At rest.

No more change.

ART