What is the Question, if Life is the Answer?

 Is it the curve of a river bending toward unknown seas?

Or the way light falls at dusk, softening edges, blurring lines?
Is it the voice you catch in a crowd, a laugh from years past,
Or the warmth of hands held in silence?

Perhaps it’s a whisper shared between trees,
the sound of roots pushing through earth,
Or the pulse you feel under your skin when the world is still—
that quiet, stubborn beat that says, go on.

Maybe it’s the spark that catches when you speak your truth,
a word that lives in the mouth, not in the air.
Or is it the wonder that slips through your fingers,
small joys, like raindrops on morning leaves?

If life is the answer, then maybe the question
is simply this: how do you love what you cannot hold?



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The World Carries On

Image
 Life often feels like a slow, unending cycle, a loop of repetitive motions that blend one day into the next. Morning comes, bringing the same routines—alarm clocks blaring, coffee brewing, the commute to nowhere in particular. The hours stretch out, filled with tasks that seem to serve no greater purpose, merely marking time in a world that spins on indifferent to our presence. Conversations echo with hollow pleasantries, words spoken not out of meaning but obligation, filling the spaces between moments like empty vessels. There is a certain weight in the monotony, a dullness that seeps into the bones, making each step feel heavier than the last. The clock ticks on, relentless, as if mocking our attempts to find significance in the ordinary. We chase after distractions, fleeting pleasures that offer a brief escape, only to be pulled back into the grey drudgery that defines our days. Each week mirrors the one before, a succession of indistinguishable moments that blur into a haze o...
Read more

Being Alive

Image
 Life unfolds like a vast, ever-changing canvas, painted with the vibrant hues of experience and emotion. In each dawn, there is a whisper of promise, a delicate thread of hope that weaves through the fabric of our days, inviting us to embrace the joy that lies in the simplest moments. The laughter shared with friends, the warmth of the sun on our skin, the quiet contentment of solitude—all are brushstrokes on the masterpiece of our existence. To live fully is to dance with the uncertainty of tomorrow, to savor the sweetness of the present without letting it slip through our fingers. It is in the boldness of our choices, the courage to love fiercely, and the grace to forgive ourselves that we find the essence of life’s true value. Every heartbeat is a reminder of our vitality, every breath a testament to the gift of being alive. There is beauty in the impermanence, in knowing that our time here is fleeting, and this awareness should not bring sorrow but a deeper appreciation. For i...
Read more

Life Seems Long. Until it Isn't

Image
The Angel of Death moves quietly, through a world that hums with life, its wings dark as the void between stars. No fanfare, no grand arrival— just the hush of time folding in on itself. Mortals hold tight to their fragile days, clutching at moments like scattered leaves. Life seems long until it isn’t. We are the keepers of time, until time lets us go. The Angel comes without sound or fury, with hands that cradle more than they take. No need for fear, no need for fight— just the closing of a chapter, the soft end of a song. Flesh and bone, so easily worn, carry us until they can’t. And when the Angel arrives, it is not a thief, but a guide home. We fear death, yet we carry it with us, in every breath we exhale, in every heartbeat, a reminder— live while the flame still dances. For in the quiet, the Angel waits, not as an end, but as a hand that leads us gently into the dark, and beyond.
Read more