Wealth is a tool
A weapon too
That which protects can hurt too

The pen, paper, sword
Tools too
Weapons too

Should the one who wields chose to
Destruction is inherent in Creation
As is sustenance and protection

The sea that nourishes, kills too
The earth that bears in patience
Trembles, gives way too

Absolute ‘good’ and absolute ‘bad’ are
A figment of this mind’s perception

Creation just isTruth just is

Of the gross and subtle
The subtlest leaves first
The grossest leaves last

Spirit back to spirit
Fire back to fire
As the flames at first crackle
Water to water,
Air to air
The flames then roar and soar
As body turns to dust

Now all that I knew of as a form is no
More than dust on the funeral pyre

The person whom I served
Food and cared for

Who was he?
This handful of dust?

No screams this mind
The spirit that he was lives on

Of Compasssion
Of Love
Of selflessness
Putting his needs last

Never thought of himself
Stood like a huge banyan
Sheltering all
An inspiration
For Strength
And courage to
Meet life head on
Not shirk from responsibility
No matter what
This is wealth he left behind
For me to treasure
For evermore