You are the Fruit of Passion,
Here, because of the Phools;
In which garden the Tree,
On which branch the Phools,
How many Fruits together,
How many Seeds(Years) in each Fruit,
Nothing! Absolutely Nothing is in our Hands,

The only Choice -
Feeling Enough is Enough,
Lot has been taken from the Tree;
Falling off the Branch,
It's wonderful to be Free;
Rolling on the Earth,
Staring at the Sky,
Basking in the Sun;
Knowing all three,
Came together to make Thee;
Yet, Now! Life is in our Hands.
If we just Lay around,
We may Rot Away, merging into the Earth,
Ending up Planting another Tree,
Grow into Old Phools ourselves;
Yet, Now! Life is in our Hands.
We take the knife of our Minds,
Made sharp by Sitting in Silence,
Penetrate into our Hearts;
Here lies - Our Real Treasure.

Live a Life fueled by Passion,
There will be enough who Say,
Nay! Nay! Not that Way;
It is their Luck, Lottery or Not,
To have tasted Another,
Finding it Sour;
Yet! You are Free,
To Choose Mindfully;
Taste each Seed,
Gingerly and Lovingly;
All the Seeds,
That you Carry Inside;
Are Gifts from the Universe;
Do Not Ask Why?
Just Taste and Try!
Follow a Passion,
That brings you Alive;
Don't Worry about Making a Life,
Which of the Seeds,
You Cherish and Plant;
Not all will grow,
As you are expecting them to;

Yet once you have planted,
A number of them in the Soil;
Watering them carefully,
Watching each,
As Day and Night,
Passes By;

You will find,
The Seeds and Dreams,
That seem to have vanished and died;
Die! They did not,
They merged into the Earth;
Speaking to her,
Their Passions do Stir;

Which Ones she Will,
Honor, Accept;
To send down Roots,
Into her Womb;

Just let the Magic,
Slowly Unfold;

Trust! Trust and Trust,
Is All You Can Do.