Time waits for no one, neither do the hands of the clock stop for us.
The old is replaced by the new. That is what nature has ordained. The butterfly emerges from the cacoon. The withering crops drops its seeds to germinate new plants. The plant does not grieve the passing away of its parent. It neither seek the company of loved one, nor feels jealous of another's good fortune. It does not even curse the one who cuts its file short.
Let us also think of ourselves as plants. Let us begin to appreciate that only when we are harvested, ploughed down and mingled with the earth, will new life emerge.
Before being harvested, let us enjoy the breeze, sway with it and dance with the raindrops. Let us accept that the scorching sun is only preparing us for ripening. In human form all our friends and relatives are our sun, breeze and raindrops. They are only fulfilling the purpose they have been created for. Let us fulfill ours.
