She drinks milk every morning,
unchanged even as she grew into adulthood.
Finishing a full glass,
she feels it soak into her body.
Even if the sun is hidden,
she gives thanks for everything she has now,
gently touching the brooch her mother left behind,
and giving thanks.

The wooden brooch,
carved with the motif of a “watchful owl,”
was something her father fell in love with
at first sight during his travels.
When her mother received it,
it became a treasured keepsake.
Her father told her that story
many times from his sickbed,
and before long,
as if following her mother,
he departed gently on his own journey.

La la la…

She loved her parents and nature.
Some of her work did not go well,
but where she eventually arrived,
she found herself planting trees.
She felt this to be her calling,
and continued planting day after day.
Her devoted figure was beautiful,
and as if answering her efforts,
the trees grew beautifully, beautifully.

There were days when
the vanishing forests of the Earth
weighed heavily on her heart,
yet she focused on what she could do,
earnestly believing this was her role.
Living alone was often convenient,
though at times she felt loneliness.
It was then that he found her,
and he, too, loved nature.

La la la…

Everything follows a single, free destiny,
a place where contradictions harmonize.
Wherever you may be,
both gentle things and ungentle things
are embraced
by what is called “love.”

La la la…

Her child drinks milk,
spreading their small hands wide.
When they drink until they are full,
they feel unconditional love.
Someday, when you grow into adulthood,
no matter what hardships await you,
everything is but a fleeting story—
“You are surely being guided by love.”