So you think you can dance and summon the winds
of every direction, weaving them into a web
that captures every episode of life?
You think you can harness it and grow fat
without ever living yourself?
You think you can feel every emotion just as intensely
as those it was birthed from;
those grieving for fathers and mothers and children
and grandparents and cousins and lovers
all torn from them in needless conflict;
those making vows to be together for their entire lives
because parting would cause them to lose part of themselves;
those suffering inside their own heads knowing that those who truly understand them
are so few that they’ll never be able to connect fully with anyone;
those so distraught over the sheer scale of pollution and destruction
occurring in the world that it brings not only tears but a knife
to their hearts, buried up to the hilt?
You can dance and summon the winds
and weave them as you please,
but you’ll never feel what they feel.
How can you when your own heart and mind are empty?
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