Isn't Everyone Born Alone

Isn't everyone born alone?Isn't freedom also a price we pay?

Wind passes through the sheer curtain,moonlight falls into the cup,like a flower that has never spoken.

I used to thinkthat with someone walking beside me,I would no longer be adrift;only later did I learnthat some shadows draw nearonly to walk beside me througha stretch of evening glow.

Clouds have nowhere to return to,so they keep changing all their lives;the sound of the tide never stays,yet turns each retreatinto an arrival.

And I, too, was once afraid,afraid the world was too deep,afraid that once a heart fell,I would never again recognizethat one grain of stardust within me.

But night falls layer by layer,yet the stars never speak;the river flows on aloneand never asks the silencefor an answer.

Perhaps freedomwas never about who lets go of whom,but about the river in the heart,at last unafraidto flow toward the boundless.

So you see,I am walking alone,and I haven't really lost anything.

Starlight is far away,the wind is loud,and my soul,from the human world,is slowly blossominginto a nameless instant.