- -for Clara
We all know it makes us tremble
We know it can make a person's voice husky
We know it stirs a frenzy in the blood
We know it inspires schmaltzy singing
We know it tugs us into arrangements
And sometimes leaves us high and dry
Nature stirs the pot of attraction
And we bubble with the broth
'Birds do it, bees do it, ' and the Wild Kingdom
Keeps cranking out its innumerable episodes
Why all the pollen and perfume and colors?
Why the silken skin, the spring in one's step?
Why is so much attention lavished
On the special way a person moves?
Why do we treat attachment as a promise?
Why do some make it a monument, some a trophy
Why do monuments get buried in dust?
Is it a splendid excess that needs to be dissipated?
Is it an accursed share of incompleteness?
Is it nature's way of shuffling a deck of cards?
Is it a dredging operation to clear up sludge?
Is it a balletic migration toward a state of felicity?
An existential errand? A recapitulation of cosmology?
A rehearsal for going back to the fountainhead
Or an inborn principle that guides sentient beings
Making life trajectories into melodies?
I am a human being, endowed with a mind
I too devote my attention, enjoy times for sharing
I too bask in the comforts of togetherness
But the question stays with me: WHY?
Like a six year old pestering his mother
But now I can only take the Creation as my Mother
Some say that life is to be lived, not questioned
And maybe the answer is too technical to fathom
Surely the question needs to be expanded
Surely it's time for the question to be refined
Maybe the Creator will note my sincere efforts
And raising questions will equip my understanding
The technical answer cannot be the final answer
As long as tears and laughter can confer meaning
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem