The blithe little soul wanders from pool to pool of eternity.

Nary a distance away are they from a fleeting; taunting dream.

One which makes the winds of life seem to blow endlessly upon the shoulders of those young and old.

It is the place where we wish for the moments of lost.

Because the touch of death is so far away.

The youthful moment for the old is as the taste of honey on tender lips.

The era of time for each spirit is like a sweet stirring song that is sung; from
time of birth unto death.

In which one cannot live fulfilled meaningfully without breathing them inlike air for the asphyxiating soul.

Ah, the life of youth!

Curiosities upon curiosities !

With every new discovery a deeper meaning is drawn into the soul.

It's just as the nectar of a sweet life-giving flower's nectar to a newborn butterfly.

Though youth may escape One's bones, One will never forget the sweet twinkle when a memory dream passes by.