What is life if not a stack of
Countless resurrections—
Piled up high
Only a few feet away from
The first cloud in a summer sky;
Closest to earth
Farthest from heavens.
What is life if not a
Lifelong mission of
Straddling between
Being and Un-being,
Tracing the way back home
From seasonal detours—
For it takes a heart as vast as the sky itself
To love the sky in all its forms,
To love life with all its repetitions.
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