Yet breath, like mist, is delicate

Yet breath, like mist, is delicate;
And life, seemingly strong, is ever near to passing.
Quickly pluck the essence of Dharma,
For definite it is, you will die at the hands of the great enemy Death.

— His Holiness the Seventh Dalai Lama, Kelsang Gyatso

When the Iron Horse Flies....

"When the iron bird flies, the red-robed people of the East who have lost their land will appear, and the two brothers from across the great ocean will be reunited."  -- Hopi prophecy from "The Book of Hopi"

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