Numberless blades of grass and flowers.

The same stream of life that runs through my veins runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measure.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth into numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers.
It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean cradle of birth and death, in the ebb and flow.
My limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life.
And my pride is from the life throb of ages dancing in my blood at this moment.

Tragore