Who Will Share These Glorious Years?

Flowers bloom and fall, clouds gather and drift. So many waxing and waning moons, so many partings and deaths, all circling round and round, forgotten again and again.

If we started over, nothing would change, would it...

I walk this world cautiously, seeking nothing and wanting nothing. That's all, and yet I can't help myself.

People sigh and say, "It's fate."

Perhaps. I cannot control my fate, a woman's fate...

Who will share these splendid years with me?