Within me is someone I don’t understand.
She’s unique, she’s different – too different, perhaps.
She’s beyond reality. Lives don’t touch her.
She’s above sorrow, terror can’t hold her;
You see, grief only scars the soul.
When I feel pain, she wonders at me.
Then I rise, to join her at her level -
And then I wonder, too.
Because nothing is worth pain.
“Nothing is worth grief.
Nothing is worth sorrow.
Nothing,” she says -
And nothing, I mean.
She doesn’t care what might happen.
“Look only at what is.
Everyday, a new miracle.
Of science, of technology, of medicine,
Yes, even of heaven!
“Yes, there are things I do not understand.
And incomprehension is my fear.
Yes, there are great and terrible tragedies in this world.
People die and wish to die, everyday.
“But that is not all the world is.”
This is what she tells me.
This is the poetry of her dreams.
This is the most important thing in the world.
This is what we must understand.
She is beyond reality.
She rises above.
She observes, objective and calm.
She is not my heart, my soul, my God.
She is my mind
And she presents – another way to think.