Petal in the Wind

Its a beautiful experience to see the world, small yet expansive, as part of you as much as you are part of it.
To feel the life coursing in your veins reflected in the rivers and tributaries.
To feel the beating bleeding heart emit warmth as the core of the world revolves and revolves in itself.
To feel the air in your breath and your exhalation to be as the winds that whisper and the winds that howl.
To feel the debilitating effect of sickness as how pollution and environmental destruction destroys the world.
To feel the eternity of death for every creature that faces death and self-extinction.

I have no right to wrestle power for my own use, my own existence a mere reflection of power and desire, of life and knowledge, of the ability to hear, see and speak. I am a petal blowing in the wind, my whims a mere illusion that the wind is my own. All I can ever hope to be is the petal that brings pleasant smells, hopeful colours and a reminder of the wind and release. I am but a petal.

I am a poor reflection.