Loss

It seems that life is nothing but a course on detachment
til the ultimate detachment: the spirit from the body.

And the worst thing is to remain in doubt
of whether we've lived all we could
we said all we wanted
we loved all it was offered.

I look at the trees branches waving
dotted with fingerprints leaves
and there I see the whole life:
the birth, the living, the dying.

And even knowing it's going to happen
I can't help but thinking: why?