We are as we were!

Who are we, thou soul of Mother Nature or the dust of this galaxy?
A series of infinite stars or the momentary particle of this universal fantasy;
We are as the pieces of sun and moon,
Involved in the continuous rage of taking over;
We are as the music coming out of Zampola* and the Music is in us,
Music we hear is the echo inside the mountains of our crying soul;
We all are as the fearless animal engaged in victory and defeat,
Though our victory and defeat is from us not from enemy;
We are as the leaves in motion, kissing the wind moving from moment to moment,
Rushing onward is visible yet the path is unknown,
Carrying the life of the tree on petals, unseen yet floral;
We and our existences are really non-existence,
Walking Ego of the absolute being, the motion of the perishable;
We are as we were!

_
Zampola = Peruvian Flute