Sometimes
“Why?” is a famine
Ready to starve you
If you refuse to move on
Not realizing
Its nourishment thrives elsewhere
Its dormant descendants
Held in a future
You must migrate to meet
So carry
The sharp aches of absence
Like a fistful of seeds
Until you find the strength to banish
The beloved part of you
That needs to hold on
To denial
Of the necessity of its passing
Keep watering its memory with your tears
Until a new horizon
Finally frees
The answer
Worth living for
