One Question

So here we are. In life, life we say. What is life? A breathe, a time warp, a dream, a creation of another being? A song, a heartbeat, is it the growth of the great pine? Is it shown in the phases of the moon, or in the rays of the sun? Is it the sparkle of the stars, or in the color of our eyes? Is it the first breathe of a newborn, or in the last breathe of our loved ones? To wonder, to wander, in life they are the same. Life is life, so why aren't we living?