Hardly Myself at All

If I am not myself, who am I?

A heron, lifting wide wings

in her take-off to eternity?

A hedgehog, prickling

when necessary to maintain her solitude?

 

Within me, within you is the history

of the great mystery of life.

We quest.

We seek to answer the unanswerable,

pushed by what perversity?

Do we really want to solve the mystery?

Would we even recognize

the answer presenting itself?

Not that it would, of course,

because the nature of mystery

is not to be solved.

 

Better to give up the quest and simply live.

It will all be made clear

in the end. Our end.

Count on it.

 

 

Copyright 2013 Ann Tudor

www.anntudor.ca
http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com