A Fossil

A fossil - - - - - - - - Have you a bag full of fossils Or are you a fossil yourself You love to sit on your laurels And I love to wander The wasteland of broken dreams And gather their shattered remains Embedded into the sand of time A flaky life exploring substance By attaching itself to years of tradition Thus becoming a fossil remains Tradition is accumulated past Which people get attached to Not knowing the access to yet-to-be Sitting on a pile of things done in the past Forgetting to see the present Least interested we are In taking care of a dead log here That in the past has produced a million flowers Only interested in a tree more When it can produce more flowers What we call a human being Is not a life fully blossomed He is like a seed But meaningless it is If you remain a seed forever If the seed sprouts, grows And becomes a tree, flowers, fruits Meaningful it becomes If you become a tree One day you will dissolve Becoming nothing Or end up becoming someone's furniture If you remain a seed Forever you will be preserved And not lived Unlived- a possibility never fulfilled