Mysteries

The great mystery isn't solved

until it's over,

"it" being the short life

we were birthed into

(for whatever purpose, which is also a mystery

to all but a fortunate few who retain the memory of that time before).

 

How we love, we humans,

to solve

(to claim to solve)

the mysteries,

then to recruit to our view

as many others as we can,

looking for company in our certitude

that this,

or that,

is what will happen when it's over—

we revel in this sureness instead of

fixing our laser gaze on life,

on what's here now

for us to experience

(yellow tulips, red cardinal).

I will plunk a chair in the front yard

to contemplate the tulips

while my heart sings

with the spring sound

of the newly returned neighbourhood cardinal.

 

 

Copyright © 2019 Ann Tudor
Food blog: http://fastandfearlesscooking.blogspot.ca

Musings blog: http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com

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