The wound is deep, the poisoned arrow stings,Yet we demand to know the archer's name,We waste our lifetimes chasing fleeting things,And fan the embers of a burning flame.Attachment is the shadow of our grief,We clutch at smoke and wonder why it flies,For every joy is beautiful and brief,A passing cloud across the autumn skies.But when the thirst for permanence is dead,The burning fires of the mind grow cool,The path of balance opens up ahead,Absolving both the scholar and the fool.The self dissolves like mist upon the sea:In total stillness is the spirit free.
MICRO FINANCE unknown to many is the sole panacea to mass poverty eradication in human society.The blog specifically focuses on the industry around the world but with more bias on Africa-unarguably the poorest region of the world.
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