"I will. . . walk to the shore with my satchel of questions,
the ones that writhe and twist in me,
the ones that make me tremble."
What a blazingly accurate description of the
questions I tend to skirt around without
making eye contact in order to avoid the scrutiny.
The ones I cannot bear to ask out of fear of the answer.
The ones that frighten me to my bones for what they'll require from me.
Why do I expect the answers to always be difficult?
What kind of inner masochism is this? It's humiliating...ha! No irony intended.
What if, the most terrifying questions lead to the most awe inspiring answers?
What if there is no test to fail, only a harvest of bounty to explore?
What if the things I fear most, given to the silence,
boomerang back softly with a gentle nudge.?
Or I'm gifted a key to unlock space I didn't know existed?
I recently learned that atoms are 99% empty space.
Is that where silence operates?
"No matter where we stand, we can listen to the silence
that crosses all boundaries, listen, together,
and wade into the current beneath all listening."
I wonder if this "current beneath all listening" is where the unknown resides?
The more I ripen, the more I realize how vast and amazing that is.
This encourages me to keep asking those questions
that "make me tremble". . .to gingerly crack open the window of my heart
to the far side of fear and rage and all I find loathsome believing
that beyond the debris is immeasurably magnificent.






