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Poem

Like moonlight on water, truth shimmers and bends,
Each question I grasp at immediately ends
In riddles more complex than those that came first—
Some thirsts remain burning, though water is cursed.

"If I drank, I'd die—if I didn't, I'd still die..."
These dilemmas remain as the years shuffle by.
I reach for you in crowded rooms, find only air,
The stars used to dance, now they simply stand there.

Some bonds are made where none expect,
No maps or lines are drawn.
Yet in the dark, some stars will shine,
And guide us ever on.

Time whispers, "If only there was more patience to spare."
Patience replies, "If only time hadn't left us so bare."
I've broken my pen, left my poems undone,
Turned away from clear paths, from the setting sun.

Yet even with knowledge incomplete,
With mysteries that linger and repeat,
I find strange comfort in these gaps between—
The art of not understanding everything I've seen.

For in the silence of what remains unknown,
Seeds of wonder have mysteriously grown.
Not every question needs an answer bright,
Some truths are better glimpsed in half-light.

So I'll embrace the puzzles life presents,
Find beauty in the unsolved arguments,
And walk this path of partial sight,
Holding close both darkness and the light.

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