Why, oh why, are we born crying,
Then someday made to cry again, before we go on to become stars.
Why, oh why, though we weren’t ever taught,
Do we know how to shed tears?
The drops that well up are an unending symbol of lavished love;
As they are led along, they make themselves known softly… gently.
From heart to body… as body becomes heart,
With all the many intertwined spiral formations involved.
If we can see the future in each and every one, even this sky we’re gazing upon,
Will seem as part of the cosmos.
Why, oh why, does the moon,
Never say a thing as it illuminates the darkness.
Why, oh why, though we know there’s a limit to our heartbeats,
Do we still spend them wastefully?
Rather than trying to assign value based on the size of the vessels we hold in our chests,
I’d rather try to feel the “life” coming from the warmed seeds within.
No matter how much we squint our eyes, trying to see ourselves,
It’ll still be too blurry to make out… until we lose track of it completely.
If the more we search, the more it will fall to pieces, even acts of imitation,
Yes, are better off created by our own hands.
What it means to live life, surely, is to let go little by little…
Then at the moment you lose your last, there’s someone by your side to give you their tears;
With that alone, we’re happy.
From heart to body… as body becomes heart,
With all the many inherited spiral formations involved.
From the moment we perceived of this repetition as eternity, all of the scenery before our eyes,
Became part of the cosmos.