The Big Questions
You get weary of the big questions,
the seemingly unanswerable
and the ones you thought
were resolved but resurrect
as doubts out of hard won certainties -
the mind rewinding arguments
to discover a fatal flaw.
And so you look to find a refuge
somewhere in the experiential,
a connection to the hard substance
of things, form fitted out
to house the spectral strands
of a fraying soul and make
thought manifest in the real.
A place of unfolding wonder,
a pebbled stream flecked
with sunlight, tall trees
carrying whispered conversations,
wildflowers bending in a warm
breeze - a place where
there is only what is taken in
and where all else dissolves,
losing the boundary
holding together the very sense
of self - the bright afternoon sun
blazing overhead, the soft, leaf
filtered shadows in prayer,
the Infinite experiencing itself.
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