Why do you weep, my friend?
Don’t you know that all green leaves would die
were it not for the scorching sun, and the beating rain?
Would sweet music assail your ear if your violin string were slack,
or if the composer had no strong emotion to share?
Could you taste succulent flesh without piercing the skin of your berry,
Or get at the meat without breaking the nut?
Do you not distinguish heavenly hues best in the harsh glare of light;
or smell the sacrifice of flowers in exquisite perfume;
Have you forgotten that this verdant plant was once covered in manure?
or that this new sentient life was torn from its mother’s womb?
So, why do you weep, my friend?
Can you not see that like the mighty lignum vitae, you flourish?
Do gnarled limbs not speak to you of character built,
hardships survived and lessons learned?
Did not the dying ackee seed push beyond its burial place?
Is it not now a home to lizards, to birds and the source of a national dish?
Was the strongest blade not forged in fire, and sharpened by steel?
Must you not eschew fear, and step into the unknown in order to grow?
Will a torn muscle not heal even stronger than before?
So why do you weep, my friend? Is it for your broken heart? Your budding soul?
Can you not contain your emerging power?
Be one with the universe, my friend!
Remember that all life, all that is good in this life, is rendered from pain.