One last summer night of May
I wrote a letter to outer space,
Letter of wonders and questions
Asking why the sun rises.
When it is frequently in a hurry to set?
Why the wind blows the clouds to the south?
And spins and turns to the North,
Swirl and swirl it goes and goes,
Oh Dear outer space,
Why are they always returning to their course?
Why do all brooks and rivers flow to the sea?
And yet it never spills and never full?
And those waters again return
From where it comes like a reverse waterfall.
Is there still anything new under the light?
Because it is worn and old in my sight,
Although my eyes have not seen enough,
Nor were my ears filled with all the sounds,
But my heart feels that I am still moving on the same ground,
What has been will be again,
And what has been done will be retrieved again,
But I heard the full moon far away,
Cackled and concealed me with her light,
Along with the same swath of stars,
I adored and gazed at it every night,
My cheeks blushed as dawn,
For I didn't get the answer she gave,
You have so much more to learn on this Earth,
She told me with a smile,
As you first sent that Letter,
You already strolled one hundred thousand miles.
@claude_writes