A Child’s Question

Why is the sky so blue? Why do rivers run free? Why does the world spin for me, like a dance in the arms of my mother?

The mountains rise like giants, echoes of ancient song, but is the earth not a cradle, a womb of whispers and echoes, a home for us all?

So speak, Speak, make the world visible, for the child within, for the beauty, the gentle rhythm of nature, the laughter of leaves dancing.

Oh, how I long to hold that profound secret, that the forest knows all and the horizon, wraps me in its arms of whispering winds.

• Bertolt Brecht