A Figment of my Mind

Questions often come to my mind.
Neither are they black, nor white.
They lie somewhere in the middle,
occupying a shade that can
only be described as grey.


Why does the Sun glow?
Perhaps it is supposed to provide light
to all those in need of it.
Perhaps it is supposed to be the centre
of all things that bow to it.
Perhaps it lies just there, waiting
to die a slow and mournful death.


Why do the oceans span so vast?
Maybe they are supposed to quench
the thirst of every creature that breathes.
Maybe they hide the lands, and
the treasures they hide beneath them.
Maybe they exist only to vanish,
to end before time itself ceases.


Why do the mountains tower over us?
Perhaps they are supposed to protect
all that they shield on the other side.
Perhaps they stand so tall to
seize our interest, with their splendour.
Perhaps they stand just as a path
to the Garden of Eden, a city of paradise.


Why do the rivers flow?
Maybe they are supposed to feed us
with the burdens that they carry.
Maybe they are there to cleanse us
with the water in their hearts.
Maybe they are just like a guide for
a lost soul to its destiny.


Why do the forests breathe?
Perhaps they are supposed to be
the storehouses of a million things.
Perhaps they are the abode
of a million different creatures.
Perhaps they are just a blessing
in disguise from God Himself.


Why does the human being exist?
Maybe it is supposed to tame
all that it can lay its hands upon.
Maybe it takes care of the Earth,
and the other dwellers on it.
Maybe it exists just to be vanquished
and consumed by its mortal self.


Questions often come to my mind.
Neither are they black, nor white.
Answers to these questions are intricate
and often obstinate in coming.
Sometimes, they come just as easily as
the bird twitters, or the bee buzzes.
Sometimes, I try not to look for the answers
to the questions, but I look at
the questions themselves, and reason.
They lie somewhere in the middle,
occupying a shade that can
only be described as grey.