there is no purpose . greater than wanting to share . what you discover
we often mistake . our purpose in life to be . the destination
almost unnoticed . the flowers begin to fade . their job completed
the lamp provides light . but only in the darkness . until then, it waits
a tree cannot know . the sensation of travel . and doesn’t need to
perhaps they got tired . waiting for the pond to freeze . a broken promise
there is a purpose . in every lost item . that goes unfulfilled
some things are assumed . but, when seen in a new light . need to be questioned
waiting for the snow . the shovel stands patiently . with nothing to do
when a sailboat sees . its own perfect reflection . it’s staying anchored
uptown jack 