he who has a why
to live
can bear
almost any how
were the words of a man
now gone but
his words not
does thought give us a why?
or is it feeling?
or both?
can I know why
and is my feeling really mine?
they are embers
unpredictable
glowing hot now
though cold
in the morning
what is the I?
can I see it?
not thought
not feeling
but something still
within
two tides collide
the short breath of fear
the long breath of calm
my breath settles me
out of sight
but visible everywhere
out of touch
but touching everything
inaudible
yet it rings like a chorus right now!
without taste
but so flavorful
the last undiscovered spice!
many more senses fail to measure it
many more thoughts are its children
the why to live is
to know oneself
the how to why
is to love
is to listen
is found
where only moving air
resides
~~~ Richard Pauloo
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