“Stream Of Life” by Rabindranath Tagore
The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day
runs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures.
It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth
in 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 of death, in ebb and in flow.
I feel 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 this moment.
The stream of life is a wondrous thing, really. It animates so many different forms of living creatures so effortlessly (including human beings like you and me!), while pushing through some of the most unimaginably limited situations with astonishing tenacity, dignity and poise. It is not too hard to see that life is the child of radiant love and adamantine truth.
The stream of life does not dwell on limitations; it flows. Limitations in form – be they difficult circumstances, a troubled heart, a frustrated mind, or any other form of restriction – are momentary. Life finds a way to continue flowing, so can you!
I have always loved thinking about and speaking of the acknowledgement that the same life that uprights a mighty oak is the same life that moves through us. The words you reference bring that gloriously to mind. As there is a connection with the reality of this the nature and quality of life always finds a way to express itself in a multitude of uplifting ways. Bully to your post as Theodore Roosevelt would say!
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