2024-07-08-3

 Beneath the ever-turning sky,

Where shadows dance and echoes lie,

There walks a soul, serene and bright,

Whose ventures shine with tranquil light.

Call him wise, the one who sees,

Through life's vast web of trembling trees,

That outcomes, like the fleeting wind,

Are but whispers, undefined.

His hands, they labor, heart sincere,

With purpose strong and vision clear,

Yet worry finds no harbor there,

In his calm and earnest stare.

For he has learned the timeless art,

Of weaving peace within his heart,

Detached from what the end might bring,

He finds contentment's secret spring.

In every task, his spirit sings,

For joy resides in present things,

No fear of loss, nor greed for gain,

Can cloud his mind or cause him strain.

Each failure, just a lesson gained,

Each triumph, but a dream sustained,

He knows that life's true measure lies,

In how, not where, our journey flies.

So let us honor such a soul,

Whose wisdom shapes him, makes him whole,

For in his calm, we see the way,

To live in peace, come what may.

Beneath the ever-turning sky,

Where shadows dance and echoes lie,

He walks with grace, pure and unfurled,

A gentle sage in a restless world.

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