Writing these lines is foolish.
Does a beautiful woman ask for a kiss?
Do the thirsty need prompting to drink
or the lonely a reason to open their arms?
As the ink dries, it chastises me:
Those who can understand me need no words
and those who need my words cannot understand me.
The goal is within your reach: *take it!*
Why keep pushing it away?
Every complaint
every harsh word
every sigh of despair
is a hand, repulsing the arms of God.
His gift is the very Creation
some wish to leave.
Who leaves a party in search of the party?
Madness!
And if they ask:
How can you be so happy all the time?
I would say:
As long as that question makes sense to you
my answer never will.
