Where did I come from?
What land and what place?
Where born or brought up
that reflects in my face?
What parents? What brothers
and sisters are these,
who shared in my days
of struggle and ease?
Where am I going?
What land and what place?
Where death and my passing
will end this sweet race?
What children? What spouse
will cry for my loss?
Remember my days when
the stage has been crossed?
Who are my people?
What friends have I known?
In childhood? In youth?
Who has helped as I've grown?
Have I chosen the ones
who have filled me with life,
or the ones who cared little
and gave me more strife?
What is of value?
What should we hold?
Our heart's pure affections,
or silver and gold?
By what are we wounded?
By what are we healed?
What treasure are we
to remove from the field?
There is none here among us
without secrets to tell,
and the need to have
somebody listening well.
For we are our secrets,
our wonders and wounds,
and our hearts remain lonely
until we are known.
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