A Hundred Times, Under the Blue Sky
The dust of regret gathers and gathers. Today, still, I'm left holding a helplessness that finds no purchase. The cruel years, like a bad joke, press a stubborn weight upon my shoulders. Nearly suffocated, struggling for air, I look up to find a sky of profound and boundless blue. I extend my hand to that clear blue, a yearning to feel its essence. If that singular hue can be the needle of my compass, I know I can begin again, a hundred times over. Shamed by the smallness of my heart's wounds, I draw my shoulders back, the sky's blue a lance of light through my spine. Again and again, the azure canvas is a place of renewal. A single deep breath fills me with blue promise. The desire to ascend to that sky is a journey never too late to begin. Though its sheer size and depth sometimes make me feel terribly adrift. Everyone is born with it, a blue bestowal from the heavens. If I let that hope sear itself onto my vision, I can raise my face once more and take a step forward. Even if the multitude of my mistakes have left their marks on my cheeks. Even cold sudden storms, after their passing, give way to a sky of untroubled clarity. 【Japanese version】