Suffering Is Never Alone But Shared

I asked myself, “How deep will this sorrow burrow into my joy of being?” I am witness, I see. I cannot judge my ignorance of complicity, I am also perpetrator, the defence the prosecutor, the victim and the one who weeps. I am one of babbling fools, but I am witness in gratitude for my seeing. In my seeing my tears are miracles, my sadness is drought. I am sorry for my life I rejoice and praise my life when I see that My life is as all life: A remarkable mystery of balance The culmination in each second of millions of unknown years. In my moment, I am but a mote in an inexorable flow of change. I can see, I witness, I weep, I exult nothing is mine, but I belong to all.