Rife in meaning, not in word.
Tender fabric has been stirred.
Life it speaks just in this way.
But what, my friends, does it say?
Speaks of people that you’ve wronged.
Speaks of reckoning prolonged.
Speaks of the end of your years.
And many more long-held fears.
Speaks of rampant evil twists.
And the places they exist.
Speaks of nature forsaken.
And how this world is breaking.
Speaks to everything that’s known.
Speaks as if it’s all your own.
How often you shut it out,
And go wandering about.
But when questioning confounds,
The spectacle’s more profound.
You start to learn who you are.
Perhaps the kin of a star,
And also everything else,
As your re-al-it-y melts.
There’s no past, and there’s no next,
There’s no thing in any respects.
Getting quiet, getting long,
Getting where there is no wrong.
Life can speak just in this way,
Best to keep answers at bay.
Answers are death, answers are ends.
There is no answer that can transcend.
Life’s a riddle, life’s a question,
Life’s which escapes comprehension.
And that’s okay, and that’s good,
Not all must be understood.
Stand in wonder, stand in grace,
There’s no trial you can’t face.
© 2019 TheRememberings Ltd.