There is an art that everyone must use.
It is as beautiful and light, like a dainty spring night,
Small and delicate like a feather in flight.
We live life at a pace.
Like the snow we fall at a speed unknown to anyone else.
We live and grow but it is up to us at what pace we will fall.
Some will turn to dust and be unknown and others will rise and then turn from ashes to bone.
For life is such a fragile thing to live in and we are always at risk of our downfalls.
Our weaknesses are only our strengths downfall.
Death is not a sad moment, but a moment of goodbye and hello to the next life.
It is a moment of renewal and resurgence.
Freezing time, to freeze a moment.
It is called, The Art of Living.