The Pages Of Time
Think of all those who have come before us, Egyptians, Mayans, Incas, and of course more recent peoples of civilizations. People who were not much different than we. People who laughed, and sang, and dreamed like we do; now totally forgotten as we will be one day. Their hopes and lives lost to the pages of history. People come and go. Their possessions turn out not to be their possessions after all. They become someone else’s or are thrown away. The Tao remains. It is the steady presence, the one mountain that does not crumble, the one sun that does not set.
Think of all those who have come before us, Egyptians, Mayans, Incas, and of course more recent peoples of civilizations. People who were not much different than we. People who laughed, and sang, and dreamed like we do; now totally forgotten as we will be one day. Their hopes and lives lost to the pages of history. People come and go. Their possessions turn out not to be their possessions after all. They become someone else’s or are thrown away. The Tao remains. It is the steady presence, the one mountain that does not crumble, the one sun that does not set.
