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What is Life
What is life, I have wondered.
How could I know this, how could I know what life is.
I suppose life is like a glass of water.
It can be filled or overflowing,
A few drops can be remaining; it could be as dry as a bone.
Anything is possible,
A spill, an overflow, a shatter, a crack.
I suppose life can be like a smile.
A laugh, a blush, a happy grin.
A memory, a friend, a joke.
It can be pure joy, excitement, or nervousness.
It can be what life can be.
I suppose life is like a heart,
It can be hurtful, broken, messy and seem unfixable.
Or maybe jumpy, ecstatic and fluttery.
It can be love,
Revolving around all you love,
The people, the objects, the emotions and sensations.
Love is life, and life is love.
I suppose life can be a raindrop,
It can be a dance, a cry, an adventure,
A relief, a relaxing day or a growing temper.
It may bring you a flower,
It may bring you mud,
A raindrop may be nothing, or it may be everything.
I suppose life can be and is what you make it.
The good, the bad, the in between.
I suppose life is life.