I walked down the road, and turned angry eyes
to the ground, the horizon, the sky;
I snarled at the world, how it poked fun at me
and I bitterly wondered why.
"Oh why do you burn so?" I cried to the sun.
"You turn everything yellow and dry."
"My dear," it replied, "if it were not for me,
you would not have this light to walk by."
I walked again, feeling so empty handed,
I saw my life still full of fears;
Then a raindrop fell onto my sorrowing cheek
to replace all the oncoming tears.
"Why are you so bleak?" I inquired of the rain.
"Why must you make everything dreary?"
"I purify spirits," it pattered to me,
"I come to refresh, not make weary."
With a troubled mind, still I continued my way,
In my world I still had not one friend;
and when a red leaf crackled under my foot,
I stubbornly cried out again.
"Your fall serves no purpose," I frowned at the pieces.
"You show me no life, only death."
"'Tis not the end, life will return," it consoled,
"And I flew down to cover your path."
I thought of the trees, how they reached over me,
How the leaves blew away with each stride.
But with them, the wind carried warmth away too-
The one thing I had left on my side.
"Please tell me," I wept, "why you chill to the bone.
Your sting tells me that I can't survive."
"Such is life," the wind whistled, "I blow through to strengthen;
I remind you that you are alive."
Tears froze on my cheeks, yet my fingers would not
move to brush away hard drops of spite.
In a sharp, whirling tempest that caught in my throat,
my bleak path transformed gray into white.
I was swept away, lost in a blizzard of hate,
and I still had the nerve to dissent.
"Remember," it cautioned, "though I'm a storm now,
how you treasure my gentle descent."
It obliged to my wishes, became soft and calm-
The air was so silent and close;
I froze and my heart lurched with old memories
of the silence that I missed the most.
I looked up again, to the distant grey clouds,
an observer of earth's silent art.
I drew in a breath, filled with sorrow and guilt
as my fate was turned back to the stars.
"Why must you complain so?" they twinkled at me.
"We see you from near and afar-
And this bitterness keeps you each moment you live.
Surely this cannot be who you are."
"It's just that I'm new to such troubling times;
I can't see things the way I once did."
"True, your mind must be filled with such worry and doubt,
but that won't get you far," the star said.
The tears I now shed were not anger, but hope-
They resembled the diamonds above.
"Please don't waste," they implored, "your innate human gifts
To breathe, to be happy, to love."
I walk a new road now, it's made up of dreams,
and it's littered with stardust and tears;
Every time these trees whisper my tale of storms,
I hope somebody's soul overhears.