Being and Not-Being

Have you ever wondered how hard it is to exist?
Without actually having to have, or to persist?
How to enjoy what it is without destroying what is about to be?
How to have and to be without actually trying to achieve?
How to look pass the soul and the feeling?

 

How to live without fearing and believing?
In honor and in fault,
in wisdom and in halt.

 

Sometimes it is very hard to comprehend:
That every life is not the same.
That we are all but a tiny big universe,
All part of a never ending coincidence,
That never stops, never ceases, but always pleases.

 

That even our very own existence on this small resistance
That we call Universe
Has its own cause and its own roots
Its own problems and its own fruits.

 

Like a tree that never dies
Like a rock that never tries:
To know right from wrong.
To discern weak from strong.

 

To know,
that our world is built upon
so many complexities.
That our life might just come to be
just as a random entity.

 

Where every second and every play.
Can make the difference between night and day.
Can change our life in a blink of an eye.
Even when we don't even have try,
To find a way to understand:
between suffering and enjoying,
between fulfillment and avoiding.

 

When just a glance, a smile or a little lie
can change the world in someone's eye.
Can bring down the holy sky
That lives deep in all of us
And constitutes
the effects and cause.
That can bring hell with just one rose.
Or make our lives more glorious.

 

When two are one, when best is none.

 

When doing and not doing are just like two close friends
Just like dark and light, like peace and fight.
Everything happens, nothing stays, everything changes.

 

Because the course where the river runs its tracks
It's as important as the river that never stops
Because the beauty of a lovely house
It's as important of the emptiness that dwells inside.

 

To be or not to be, that's not the problem
Being has never become a problem.
Because we are from the time we are born
And we become as we try to grow old.
So being has never actually become a problem.
(Except when are bothered by anger, sadness, or hunger)

 

But, how to deal with not-being?
How to be by not-being?
How not-being, by being?

Author: Juan José Vásquez-Pacheco

Tags: poetry philosophy existence

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