Each present moment is a cosmic void that might be filled by the semi-lucidity of dementia or the degeneration of sequelae. I may be an old man merely recalling fragments of my youth with a misplaced certainty of identity, or I never returned when reality dissolved and only seemed to recoalesce. What options have I left?
Like massive boulders,
mountains pressing against the sky,
moving in from all sides,
crushing the four directions,
so aging and death
come rolling over living beings:
noble warriors, brahmans, merchants,
workers, outcastes, & scavengers.
They spare nothing.
They trample everything.
Here elephant troops can hold no ground,
nor can chariots or infantry,
nor can a battle of wits
or wealth win out.
So a wise person,
seeing his own good,
steadfast, secures confidence
in the Buddha, Dhamma, & Sangha.
One who practices the Dhamma
in thought, word, & deed,
receives praise here on earth
and after death rejoices in heaven.