Life keeps moving on and on

Life keeps moving on and on.
The seasons come and go.

But not for me.

I'm a statue, colour-graded in grey -
an unmoving black-and-white image
at Shibuya Scramble Crossing.

I am the sea.
If only you came closer,
you would see that the stillness from afar
is only my stormy waves.

Can you find the tears of the sky
once they have reached the ocean?
Can you still distinguish their taste
among its salt?

I'm only walking on a sandless beach,
yet my feet are burning.

I'm reaching for the sun,
yet it reaches me from the ground.

The ground dug open for flowers
will one day host my burial.

Who will claim me -
the sea of my emotions,
or the hopes that reach for the sky?

The burning of my desires,
or the fruitless ground beneath my feet?

For I cannot be just one or the other.
I am all the elements at once.

You see the sunny smile I wear today.
You taste the bitter tears of my stormy days.
Perhaps I'll grow cloudy before your eyes.
Or perhaps you'll find healing
in the warmth of my beating body.