WHY?
Have you ever wondered the reason for things,
Like why insects buzz, or why the bird sings?
I know the reason, the reason for why.
I'll tell it to you, or I'll give it a try.This reason I learned, but it took many years
Of searching and pondering why we were here.
My quest first began when I was a youth.
That's when I began my great search for the truth.I went about life, questioned not a thing,
But just enjoyed life as a mere human being.
That is, until the last day I would rest,
Before setting out on a glorious quest.
It was purely by chance, as I walked down the street,
That on this one corner, a fool I would meet.
He acted quite silly with his songs and his jokes
And his juggling tricks and his dancing for folks.But then, when he took a pie in the face,
And laughter was heard all over the place,
I could not help but wonder what fate meant in giving
This man such a way that he should make a living.After his show, once he bowed to the crowd,
I asked if a question would be allowed.
I looked at him straight, and I said to him, "Why?
"Why did you choose this line of work? Why?"
The fool smiled knowingly, much to my surprise.
He seemed to be smarter than he looked to my eyes.
He said, "Many ask, but few understand.
"This life was my choosing, and I think it's grand."I grew puzzled by this, and I looked at this guy,
And once again, plainly, I asked him why.
He said, "You might ask again and again,
The reason for any reason, and then,"You're left with the most impossible task,
The absolute highest question to ask."
And here was the question that in my ears would ring.
He summed it all up in, "Why anything?"
At first, it seemed strange and a little bit trite.
Then I started to wonder what answer was right.
I thought and I thought, but as hard as I'd try,
I just couldn't answer the question of "Why?"Why didn't the sun move eastward instead?
Why must the sky be blue and not red?
Why do the insects and birds need to fly?
Why do we have them at all in the sky?I asked the fool what he had to say,
But he simply said, "Perhaps another day."
And with that the fool turned and left me alone
To wonder the reason that had to be known.
So I read every book, and I heard every speech,
But alas, I saw no answer in reach.
I puzzled it over, and asked people I met,
But "Why?" was a question I would not answer yet.I went right up to every guru I found,
And I asked them why any of us were around.
I asked every teacher in every school
The question that was put in my mind by the fool.Not a single one answered, not a single one could.
I could see that this wouldn't do me any good.
To answer a query that was posed by a clown,
I would have to ask the most foolish in town.
But they could not help any more than the rest,
And it seemed that I'd never finish my quest.
But then, one day, a man in a tavern
Said there was a wise man in a mountainous cavern.Well, I climbed that mountain that very same day.
I wanted to hear what this wise man would say.
I reached the man's cave, and I entered his lair.
And there was the wise man, just sitting there.He was old and gray and thin as a rail.
He had a long beard and looked very frail.
He wore ragged clothes, and sat on a dirt mound,
And he seemed lost in thought until I made a sound.
He asked why I came, and I told him so.
There was one answer I just had to know.
I thought I was close to the answer I sought.
But when I asked him "Why?" he answered, "Why not?"I thought he was taking my question too lightly,
But the wise man persisted that he answered rightly.
I said that his answer did not make things clear.
He said, "Then there's nothing left to learn here."I climbed back down the mountain wondering still
Why the universe must do all the things that it will.
Another question that posed itself to me was,
If this man's so smart, why live where he does?
I returned to the village, and as I entered town,
I heard a voice from below, and when I looked down,
A beggar was resting all covered in grime.
He held out his hand and said, "Could you spare a dime?"I gave what I had for his pocket, then said,
"Now offer me something to put in my head."
I needed to know why life does what it does.
And so I said, "Why?" and he said, "Because."I suppose that this answer worked for a few,
But for me, this did not exactly sound true.
It was reason enough for some other guy,
But I was left wondering, "Because of why?"
It seemed that if I was to answer this thing,
I would have to directly speak to the king.
So I wore my best suit, and I walked very tall,
And I went to the castle and entered the hall.When I met the king, I said I had a quest.
He said, quite assuredly, "Ask me your test."
I then asked the king what I wanted to know.
The king's answer to "Why?" was "Because I said so!"Once again, this did not help me at all.
As I turned to leave, and walked down the hall,
I wondered by what right does this one man, a king,
Make his own will the most powerful thing?
For many long years I continued my quest,
Searching high and low and doing my best,
Asking the people I'd meet on the street.
I would not, I could not accept a defeat.No matter how much my journey seemed futile,
No matter how life would get hard and brutal,
I would always continue through heat and through blizzard.
And then came the day that I met with a wizard.He stood in the forest and conjured his spell,
How did he do it, he would surely not tell,
But it was not "How?" that I wanted to know,
But a different question that troubled me so.
I asked the wizard the question of why,
Why was there anything under the sky?
The sorcerer said that he wondered the same,
And for quite a long time, no answer came.Then finally, the solution was clear,
The answer to asking why we were here.
I waited with one of my impatient stares,
But then he looked at me and he said, "Who cares?"We are what we are, and where we are too.
What would it matter, if the reason we knew?
If we could explain it, we'd act just the same.
Why-ever, not knowing, is the name of the game."
But the reason for being still mattered to me.
And I said, "This is something I really must see."
The mage smiled and said, "If that is your quest,
Then you should continue on searching with zest."Search everywhere, and stay on your track,
But if you find an answer, please, don't bring it back.
The reason for being you may need, although,
For me, it is something I'd rather not know."So I continued on seeking, through mud and through snow,
In rain and in sun and in fog I would go.
Then I met some children who played in the field,
And I wondered if a child, the answer, might yield.
Either way, I would ask the kids next,
So I went up to one boy and said I was perplexed.
I asked him why anything had to be done.
He looked up at me, and he said, "Just for fun."But that made no sense, at least not to me.
Why don't water slides grow in place of a tree?
If the most important thing in life were to play,
Then why do people need to work every day?Life has its joys, but also its pains.
There are sunny days, but also are rains.
If the reason were to be happy all of the time,
Wouldn't making the world as it is be a crime?
Still, I thanked the boy for his offered thoughts,
And left him to play with the other tots.
Just then a voice came from behind me and said,
"That boy certainly has quite a good head."I turned around and sitting there in the yard,
With a quill and a page and a smile, was a bard.
"I heard," said the writer, "you asking your query.
And I dare say, I have an interesting theory."I could hardly imagine what he might have in store,
But I didn't want to get my hopes up once more.
So I begged him continue, that artist of words,
Why were there people, dogs, cats and birds?
The writer said that he wrote on every page,
A whirlwind of laughter and sorrow and rage.
A chapter of joy, and a chapter of pain,
And all sorts of things just to entertain."Perhaps," said the writer, "life is a book.
It's full of things worth a third and fourth look.
It's flooded with scenes from the glory to gory.
Maybe the answer is that it makes a good story."This writer did sum up the nature of things,
But yet, in my mind, the question still rings.
If an interesting novel is the goal of our race,
Then why was our story written in the first place?
I traveled the world and spoke to the teachers,
The judges, the lawyers, the rabbis, the preachers,
The beggars, the workers, the singers and dancers,
But none of them gave me any much better answers.I heard many perspectives from shamans and lords,
From knights and from doctors and artists of words.
I heard views from the east and views from the west,
And from north and south, but it was too hard a test.Then came the day that I'll never forget.
I walked down the same street, and guess who I met.
There on the same corner, where I'd met him before,
Was the very same fool that had started my chore!
He asked what I'd done since we met long ago.
I said that I traveled the Earth to and fro.
He might not remember, but I once asked why,
And I can't find an answer for how hard I try.The fool looked at me and seemed somewhat surprised.
He said, "You already have the answer you prized.
You've traveled the world, and wherever you go,
You ask to be told what you already know."I did not understand, but I gave it a try.
I looked at the fool, and I said to him, "Why?"
The fool smiled, as though it were an easy task.
Then the fool said to me, "Why do you ask?"
I thought for a moment, and then understood.
If I had the answer, would it do any good?
And yet, though I had no reason to wonder,
This was still a question I just had to ponder.My quest had no purpose at all I could see,
And yet, my whole journey just had to be.
Now, the reason for life was comprehensible.
It accomplishes nothing, but is indispensable.The fool asked again, why I should need to be taught.
And all I could think to say was, "Why not?
Why should any man ask the question he does?
I have to know this thing simply because!
"Why should people tell me what I want to know?
I think they should tell me because I said so.
I have no reason to search here and there,
But in spite of that fact, I really don't care."Even if my great task never got done,
It would still be worth doing, because it was fun,
And in a way, through my joy and my pain,
I created a story that would entertain."The answer to the great question of why,
Why worlds are above and below the vast sky,
Why there is hate and why there is love,
The correct answer was this. All of the above!
I now knew the reason for bugs and for birds.
It was something I couldn't quite put into words.
But I needed no way to express what I knew.
All that I needed was to know it was true.Now I had learned what I needed to know,
So I thanked the fool, and ere I turned to go,
I said that I'd find another question to try.
And just then, a little boy looked at me and said, "Why?"
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