I Don't Know

 

I don’t know who I am or where I’m going 

or what I’m good at.

I don’t know if this was some crazy dream

that moved into a nightmare.

I don’t know what may happen next, which

thrills me as much as it frightens me.

I just don’t know.

 

I don’t know how words morph into

these weighty scenes that lead us backward

and forward like the ebb and flow of oceans.

I don’t know how the body machines

and sputters along or how it somehow

stops - all at once or bit-by-bit.

I don’t know these mysteries. I don’t

even know what I don’t know – the

hazy mirror reflecting only what I can see.

 

I don’t know how love is born or takes

flight across days, decades, distances.

I don’t know how those we need most 

simply appear silently at our time of despair.

I don’t know how danger is averted

on a darkening road in the half-wilderness.

 

So much – a universe worth – of un-knowing.

So fragile. So naïve.

And in this equation – so innocent.

But innocent how? I don’t know.

 

October 13, 2015