When thought ceases, there is death;
When thought stirs, there is life.
Before birth, you were thinking still—
You thought yourself from seed to child,
An intention wrapped in flesh.
You were a thought, bound to creation,
A thought that bloomed in stages:
Child to youth, youth to man.
And when you leave this body behind,
You will remain—a thought eternal,
Unbound by form, yet ever whole.
MyKoul
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem