Weird.
How can one see what sees?
How can we envision visions?
Could the light ever imagine light?
Could the wise know wisdom?
Can you look at the world around you?
(No living thing can ever know what we do not see)
All is dead.
A dark secret lurks in the beauty of the sea.
Whenever I cried, it was for things that were totally unknown to me…
Sitting by the river.
Letting the wind whisper songs from far away.
Doing nothing.
No analysis. No plans. No action.
Just acceptance. Thinking of nothing.
No hate. No love. No enviousness.
Just acceptance.
Of yourself. Of others.
Of the cosmos itself.
Happiness does seem to come for free.
(Are you willing to die?)
What could be more expensive than that?
Oh, we try so hard to be happy.
That we do not give any attention to the sad truth.
It takes nothing to be happy.
The only thing that really needs effort, is to be sad.
In a place with birds. In a place with songs.
In a cosmos full with pain and blood on grass.
There is nothing to do but smile.
And if you pay attention long enough, you will see the birds cry…
~ Part of Harmonia Philosophica network
Poetic Philosophy 