Who Knows

She feels the urge to ask, And in a different time she would have, I guess it’s just another mask, Removed by hands of time. A child asks a mother in attempts to understand, A fool asks a brother for the faintest hope of what he’d planned, But what’s become of her? She, who feels that urge to ask, But every ‘magined scene evaporates because at last… She knows a thing that needs no validation, Her heart and head align for once in pure determination, And in every situation, Her conclusions flow the same, Like the ocean from the river from the highest snows from whence it came, Desire o’re the years and years Shaped through all the tears, the tears, They form a being needless of a voice to tame the proof That’s found, In every tingling nerve and heartbeat dancing to the truth Around, A fire lit within, She won’t believe it anymore That what drives her is a sin. The sin of resolution, The futility of absolution, Oh, so heavy lies the crown Upon a cool prevailing head, No more in need of sought or proffered Whispers of the ones who led Her Much too often to the stagnant pool of false reflection, Softening the empty burn of grudging genuflection, At the base of some familiar altar, Asking far too much, A sacrifice of every smile, Every notion, Every touch, Of every single fiber weaving who she’s born to be, Fraying all the threads, Blurring all the lines, Convincing her she cannot see The Self that’s in her eyes, Prompting her to ask ~ Like a fool, like a child ~ Which parts of her are good to keep, And which are remnants of the wild, Ancient, Gorgeous, Magic, Sane illogic, Pieces of her soul, Mold them, Shape them, To this thing called reason… Expectation… White picket fence of civilization. Does it make her a good woman to conform to this? I guess that depends on the meaning of “good”, And whether she gives a $h1+, She asks now only as a curiosity, Offering her story, but never an apology, And truthfully, What she came to see, Is an answer that, From the mouth of another, Placates like that from a brother, Or a mother, But that answer heeded from deep within, In all its frightening truth, Relentless and unabashed, Yes, that answer heeded from deep within Is the one that caused HER life to begin.