Choose Compassion

The Beauty


Everything is alive,

Everything - is alive.

Forever evolving,

Born to be reborn.

A mountain boulder walks to its sandy grave in the waves,

Waves, marching from their stormy birth, to dissipate on some foreign shore,

And a flame’s desperate dance, as it devours its path to extinction.

Everything is alive.

Mapping scales of time and space twisted beyond our being,

Born only to die,

Carrying nothing,

But those priceless moments,

Of living.


We raise our bodies from primordial swamps,

Stretch our limbs to climb,

And pause in contemplation.

We are alive.

We are beautiful.

We are beautiful beyond our capacity of imagination.


No, it is not of our choosing,

Our first breath is a scream in the shadow of death,

Like the flight of a bird into glass:

Stunned, we are shaken awake.

Bearing scars of the relentless struggle,

We are delivered before our apparent junction,

To gaze hungrily at a featureless horizon.

Yes, it is not of our choosing,

But it is our choice.

We have a choice.


There is no judge, no better, no worse,

We have no obligation,

Not even to life itself.

We are free, as all before us,

To drift causally in the stream,

Buoyed merrily in the flow.

Heedless, as we tumble and reel,

Of our endlessly changing course.

The past decays in our wake,

As we arrive each moment to endure this insatiable procession.

No beginning,

No end,

No clever circles,


The journey.


But now, we have choice.

The choice to be aware.

The choice to be aware of this unfolding moment.

This revered moment of stillness.

Sanctuary, from our determined chains.

Liberated, in the choice;

Of action, and not of reaction.

As awareness is the seed that enables that choice.

It is our empowering hand on the sluice gate,

As it is our choice to flood the arid planes with compassion.


It is our choice,

We can change,

We can make change,

Evidence based change, for our perceived better.

We can choose to cultivate wisdom of our being,

And bloom in celebration of our connection.

We have been blessed with an artisan’s steady hand,

And with the edge of awareness,

We can polish that stony facade that is our heart,

To reveal the myriad of sparkling faces of a gem.

For once, in the life time of our Earth,

We have that rare sacred privilege,

Of freedom,

And it touches our hearts with the weight of the universe itself.

We can choose our destiny,

And perhaps, we may choose if we are to keep those sparks alive.


And why should we?


Because we are beautiful.

And that is enough.

Human life is so precious.