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The soul of a glass rose by shylywilling at 11/29/2016 2:21:37 PM My life is not my own, It is my soul's, I've always known. I just eat and talk, it is my heart that does the walk. We are each granted at birth a bit of fire and earth in the form of a beating heart and the will to survive. This gift can be thought of as a soul that one has the brief opportunity to shape with the deeds of one's material existence. Fire and earth make glass and hence our souls are like glass, fired and molded by the passions of our toils. One can inspire with force and risk chipping or cracking one's own glass or one can inspire with beauty and kindness. I rather think that when the day arrives each in turn and the flame is taken back from one's flesh, those that accomplished a beautifully sculpted bud with their life will find it has a permanent home in the tree of life awaiting a united blossoming and those that accomplished a pile of broken cracked glass will find it returned to a warm puff of dust.