The quest for life begins with the thirst for milk
And ends with the thirst for life...
In between there are people, books, theories and tools, There are leaders, saints, capitals, the poor and the fools. The distance is largely covered in the blink of eye, And bridge we all along plan for we actually never cross.
Some marry. Some don't. Some travel. Some won't. Each one carries their own bottle ... Full of water, wine, or sherbat.
Each one leaves behind some evidence in a child, or a page or on the moon. In all this wandering for the soul, that really knows nothing about death, remains the only need to live.
The only priceless, yet free act to be happy.