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…
What are you doing alone at night?
What are you alike?
Do you dare see yourself?
Can you cry without being sad?
A whole world is watching.
Begging you…
(Can you cry for 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?
Poetic Philosophy 