What keeps us alive, what allows us to endure?
I think it is the hope of loving,
or being loved.
I heard a fable once about the sun
going on a journey to find its source,
and how the moon wept
without her lover’s warm gaze.
We weep when light does not reach our hearts.
We wither like fields if someone close
does not rain their kindness upon us.
Foto Hanneke Norbruis 1972