Dedication, 1- First Cry

Dedication
To all whom I have loved, for love is the most therapeutic thing in this crazed world.

First cry
The only one cry between us
Unfolds into uniting hands.
Into the bottomless of mountains
Or grand, precious rivers
Or the full moon, where the gloominess of our eyes
Evoke us for a union so rare,
Where we dive into the deep of each other's eyes,
Or treasure every second of this great show;
For our existence is the sparkle that composes
The sweetness of our hands to reach
A friend, so close, so dear, and so far
And we set our feet on the solid of the earth
Where the only awareness is the feeling of the other;
And the resistance we both share.
How is it for us with this love?
When we see the other's aura, not the body.
And how sad our cry is for union!
A painful, fierce cry, First Cry.
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A river which washes the stones down the stream, can be a vital source of living as much as a destructive factor for nihilism. As the water washes good and bad, healthy and unhealthy, vivid and morbid, the layers at the bottom piles upon each other like racks of clouds. There are generations after generations that make, shape, and combine those piles; and how the most recent layer can possibly know anything if it doesn't at least glance beneath it. This is the river of life, many lives, generations, cultures, races, and all accumulated knowledge.
The clouds up in sky cover stars, moon, or sun; but that is what appears in our eyes. If we can fly high enough above those clouds, we are able to see stars, blue sky, sun, and moon. Why? Because clouds love them and because they love clouds. They envelope each other not swallow. Up there, sky, sun, and clouds are free, free of tumult, thunder, and lightening. There is nothing up there to scare or tie them.
It is life, our lives, Anna's life worth living. An ordinarary life which becomes so extraordinary as the piles get thicher and clouds get darker. The massive force that started Anna's unusual life would change to a short ecstasy, a long life solitude, and another short bliss. That follows by making an ultimate decision. What she knows or has known in her experienced, yet naive life, compare to this last impulse is nothing. This is a very new learning, as baby's First Cry. It is Anna's First Cry.
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