Wise shall rise not faster but slow and steady
To face facts of life and experience being ever ready
When born one wears in hand the creed of birth
Simultaneously in other hand the seed of death
Both means birth and death an unending cycle
During which to escape the latter are many a struggle
This drives year after year to your destination
Unnoticed that you are daily subjected to deterioration
This is ever so relevant to our day to day living
Which upholds the dignity of the human being
Today you are 10, later you will be 50, 80 and 95
That is if you have the luck and if you happen to live
By then your glamour, youthful look and strength
And your well-maintained unbroken health
Your vision, hearing has waned away
Your one-time jet-black hair has turned grey
Still later your cheeks sunk, eyes deeper in sockets
Body shrunk with nothing in your pocket
Being unable to manage your own affairs
Hardly anything remains upstairs
Finally driven to boundaries of life
You will continue to lament with grief
Transition is realised when one experiences in brief
The process begun with birth mixed with joy and grief
This is the truth the absolute and the ultimate truth
The wise shall understand this with no wrath
It is from birth all these emanate
What shall we do to enrich our fate?
There is a meaningful answer – where?
Look hard for it and try to share
-Rupa Banduwardena