I came to this world with nothing in my hands. And when I leave, I know, it will be the same... I will rest quietly in the soft grass Without pain, without anger, without bitterness... I will carry with me only a still memory— of sunsets, of the sea, of warm laughter, of love and a gentle evening wind... And the knowledge that I truly lived... I gave freely from my heart to all. And asked for nothing in return. That bliss, I know now, is to love, and if you love, then—to remain... I know my time has come too soon. But who ever leaves when the hour is right? The measure lies not in years counted... No single life is ever quite enough for anyone...
# One Life There is only one life— mine, yours, theirs— all the same life breathing through different mouths. The beggar on the street corner, the king in his palace of stone, the child chasing butterflies through tall grass, the old woman counting her days like coins— all of them me, all of them you, the same blood, the same hunger, the same fear of the dark. I have lived a thousand lives and died a thousand times and still I am only living this one. The river does not ask the ocean if it is worthy of joining. The leaf does not negotiate with the wind. They surrender, and in that surrender, they become part of something larger— not lost, but found. So let me not cling to the illusion of separation. Let me not hoard this breath as if it belongs only to me. There is only one life— it moves through the universe like light through glass, like music through silence, like love through a closed heart until the heart breaks open. And when I break open, I will finally know: I was never alone. I was never mine. I was always ours.
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