Why do you weep

and wail beside a

cold bed? Why

do you moan and

mourn inside a

church? Why do you

look for the living

among the dead?

I am the bee that

flits from flower to

flower, and I am

the storm that strikes

without warning. I

am the people and

the places, the things

and the thoughts.

And if you cannot

see me, then you

must descend to the

depths of your soul.

But do not look for the

living among the dead.