For whom do bees flutter?
Wandering aimlessly,
Pollinates every flower,
To keep the hive by the hour.

For whom do lions hunt?
Prowling beneath the green,
With life and limb to risk,
To feed the cubs who frisk.

For whom do oxen stand firm?
Cirlcing 'round their young,
Horns on steady grounds,
Fending off Arctic hounds.

But with one heed to pay,
A thorough observation,
Can thus prove the claim,
Humans are all the same.

For in our humble longing,
Our quest for knowing,
With one deep gasp,
Do we eagerly ask:

For whom do our hearts ache?
We take the leap of faith,
We weather the heavy rain,
All for the ones worth our pain.

This is not really a poem; just an insightful realization of mine**


We have this mainstream perception of human life—that we grow to freely love the things we desire to love. We are biologically-inclined to conform to the intuitive notion of 'freewill'. But what is supposed to be imprinted in our minds turns out to be no more false than the number zero being larger than one; in actuality, we are nothing but biological clockwork confined to obey the laws of nature.

Every atom in our body, every neuron streaking in our nerves, and every step we take, our body does so, for the laws of nature require it to. Our actions are as predetermined as the orbits of the planets, and paradoxically, it is as probabilistic as the location of an electron in its quantum orbit. We don't act out of our own will; we act out of necessity, for the laws of nature require us to behave the way we should be behaving.

They call it Scientific Determinism.

Disturbing, isn't it? And what does that make out of freewill and love? Simply put: freewill is an illusion, and love is the sweetest lie ever conjured up in this Universe. Even so, we still choose to believe in both. Why? Because we're humans; we long to live our life with a purpose, even if it takes for us to make up our own.

I. Awaken
Crack of your early dawn, the morning dew fumes.
Like voices in the Arab Spring, your brightest thoughts bloom.

Zooming past a childish phase of naiveté,
Your days of blissful ignorance are due today.

II. Replete
Loving someone else, the heart cavorts like airborne pollen.
Loving your own self? It's different. It ignites a spark of confidence.

You'll bask in the ambience of self-assured clairvoyance.
Like a seraph, like a quasar, you'll blaze with prominence!

III. Believe
Stand fast in eons of ideas clashing like rapids in the Amazon.
Conjure your kind of affirmation. Brand it in mankind's lexicon.

Don't fret. Don't falter. Don't let anyone cast you asunder!
For deep inside, you know you bear an ironclad banner.

IV. Dream**
Aspirations shall coat you like an illustrious cape of a ruler.
To your life’s questions, they’ll help you find the answer.

Look up to the stars! They will surely help you remember;
That a person like you always deserves the better.

Behind that beautiful face,
An underlying harsh reality.
Unknowingly facing tremors
That puts you on the brink of sanity.

A condition so unbearable,
It just seems so insuperable.
It might hurt to the pulp,
Even swallow you in one big gulp!

You may feel heavy inside,
But don't let your self abide.
It may be a brutal adversary,
But you have puissant weaponry!

If a need comes from the blue,
You have allies by your side!
Know that we'll be here for you
--we'll fight for you with pride.

The tree has entered my hands,
The sap has ascended my arms,
The tree has grown in my breast—
Downward,
The branches grow out of me, like arms.

Tree you are,
Moss you are,
You are violets with wind above them.
A child—so high—you are,
And all this is folly to the world.