Why are the heavens suspended, on pillars of coruscant blue?
And why are the clouds hanging airborne like shrouds
Metamorphosing all the time too?
Why are sable heavens so star-filled? The numberless suns in dark sky?
With galaxies whirling, rotating unfurling –
One day I should like to know why.
Where are the storerooms of snowstorms? What are the measures of hail?
Who has second-sight? And where lives the light?
Why do seasons progress without fail?
What words have the winds in the mountains? What language do rains chatter by?
Which paths underground do the streams move around –
On that day, I should like to know why.
What do all the animals speak of? What say all the angels around?
What fields in heaven will to us be given?
What wonders are there to be found?
When will I travel the universe? How many stars live and then die?
Do aliens roam? Or is mankind alone?
Either way, I should like to know why.
How do souls knit to their bodies, deep inside their own mother’s womb?
From where come souls rife to give us new life?
Where do they live beyond the tomb?
Sub-particles ad infinitum, inner worlds infinitely –
Go smaller together, inside us forever –
And in heaven I’ll understand why.
Orpheus Sings – Why?