Don't Know Why

I don't know why
we wait for life
to put things into place;
it's like asking flowers
to grow beautifully
in a broken vase.

And I don't know why
people smile when they're happy
and cry when they're sad,
and if they do the opposite,
they're considered mad.

And I don't know why
people cry "Jesus, can you help me now?",
when before they used to adore and
kneel down before the holy cow.

And I don't know why
trying is harder than being,
when you're caught in a moment
between fighting and fleeing.

And I don't know why
you're still lost,
and why I'm right there with you,
and why we never seem to get lost together,
together, like sand and sea,
far away but still touching,
open but still limited,
one and one but never two.

I don't know why.
I never do.
Do you?