I walked along the Tiber this morning, scattered along my path were heaps of blossoms all scorched, dried and reduced to dust. No one even bothered to notice them. And yet, only a few days back, these very blossoms were aloft the boughs swaying gloriously in the wind admired and appreciated by so many. How this is of worldly glory!
All worldly glory passes away and it is as precariously perched as a blossom: beautiful today but gone tomorrow. There are persons who would strain every nerve and pull every string to attain worldly glory. There are those who just itch to enjoy the loaves of office. There are still others, who, ravaged by the cancer of careerism, strive to ensconce themselves into positions of power and prominence. Alas! It is from these "high places" that they will fall and lie scattered in the dust!
Worldly glory is so frail and precarious. It lasts for a while and then comes tumbling down shattered in the dust! The higher its aspirations, the more painful its fall!