I had vision of you. You were on your knees, drained of energy and to weak to move. Your white gown, surprisingly not stained  not in least. Your hands are palms down to the ground,  your face is having the earth. A tear trickled down your face, then slowly creeped down your arm until it hit the fresh dirt that your hands had broken lose with your fingers. Unaware of the seed that you had planted years ago was buried shallowed undermine the fresh earth. Your years slowly fed the seed, as you kneeling in grieving in the earth, it began to grow and give birth to life. Slowly your years dried as you became memorized by the creation growing before your eyes... You stand up, grin at the bud starting to expand, and You look up to the sky and speak softly, slowly and softly... "Now I get it?" A voice replies, "I can't fix something that is not broken."