Does everything happen for a reason?

Who am I?
Whose very life desires...
Desires to exist in the way that it does,
Is happy to be and also happy to have gone.

Who am I?
Beyond all circumstance...
Not after nor separate from the world I am in,
But in a loving embrace.

Who am I?
Whose heart feels to fly...
Into the face of my past,
With some gratitude alive.

Is this right?
Does my life actually feel?
Was there a plan to make me
Into something so clear?

Was there a reason?
Or is this mere chance?
Am I condemned to be the endless victim
Of random happenstance?

It would appear that is so,
That my life is so fragile,
That I accidentally landed
In happiness and joy for awhile.
That in my journey here's a moment,
To be followed by more,
But I cannot know what may come,
And have no right to hope.

But I hope.
I dare.

And I think that in fact my life did want,
Wanted to be the way that it is,
And ran desperately after that.

And I think that it succeeded,
And now has faith in me.
I think we, my life and I,
Were meant to be.