Some claim our lives are predestined, that whatever
is going to happen to us was already decided
long before we ever arrived here.
Of course, people say a lot of things, few of which
are actually true. I say that whatever happens
might just depend on everything:
the way the first people who crawled out of the sea
stood on dry land, looked around, and sniffed the air;
the stunning colors in the clouds over one continent
after the super-volcano exploded on another;
the cumulative cries of all the babies ever born;
the exact amount of blood spilled into the earth
during all of man’s endless wars;
the happy games Cain and Abel played as children
before there was anything to gain or lose;
the frustration we feel when the seeds we’ve set out
for the migrating birds are eaten instead by squirrels;
the tears in the eyes of all the lovers on railway platforms
as they wave farewell to their beloveds rolling away;
the horror on the faces of all the mid-wives and healers
burned at the stake by the church as witches;
the secret agreements made between grinning psychopaths
over how they would divide up the nations of the world;
the songs of the last whales before their species
was finally hunted by man into extinction;
all the wishes made upon the stars and blown-out
birthday cake candles that never came true . . .
Yes, I could go on and on, since the reason for anything
is everything, but perhaps I should stop here and let
you, the reader, add some reasons of your own.
Together, we could compose a text that never ends,
and even if it somehow did, something else will
continue on — something always does.