Touching the Face of God

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I wonder if Piotyr knows

How beautiful is his watercolor sky.

I wonder if it ever makes him

Just sit and sit and sit and cry

To know all that happens beneath his sky.

And I wonder if he ever asks himself:

Why?

Why do we love?

Why do we kiss?

Why do we marry?

And who should we miss?

Why do we cry?

Why do we hate?

Why do we lie?

Or is it just fate

That determines our lives?

Do we have a choice

Under this watercolor sky?

Does Piotyr ever just sit and sigh

And wonder why,

Why, we humans have to die

When we are born

So fresh and new,

And how we loved

With that heart, too,

And in the same breath

We die,

We die,

Underneath his watercolor sky.

Was it his intention,

I fear,

To stop life when we were so near?

I wonder if he tried and tried,

I wonder if he nearly died.

If Piotyr realized

That we were gone,

And said so long,

Farewell, goodbye, goodbye,

Underneath his beautiful watercolor sky.

I wonder if he said hello,

Or if we’re all he’ll ever know.

I wonder if he might turn and cry

To the tune of a lullaby.

Or if he’ll dance,

Or if he’ll sing,

Trying on his wedding ring.

I wonder if Piotyr knows how to fly,

Fly into his watercolor sky.

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