The Universe played a joke on me.
I wanted answers, even knowing they
can hurt, because I know being scared
of The Unknown is worse. Not every book
is open-- ready to be read-- neither
is every story told in words.
We have to work to interpret the terms,
and you wanted to, so who was I
to stop you? We would take to the road--
only a dirt path, in our case--
leaving home, or at least, our safe place.
You became more invested than I,
discontented with my guesses, and
convinced The Universe was on our side.
Within the ridges of copper stone cliffs,
amidst evergreen pines you scoured
for everything you claimed as ours.
(You told me, "Rightfully, we are
a piece of all this boundless energy.
As with any extension of the human body,
it belongs to us.")
You counted ripples on the river,
reflecting on what waits to be perceived.
Refractions; each like its own temple
or tower, where the water
teaches you through divination.
We're anticipating a reason --
for the wind in the trees--
but the universe believes this
insistence to be an act of treason.
One paradoxical guess. Instead,
You read the waves like they bled,
and I asked you why,
and you said,
"The answers are out here."
I said, with a small change of mind,
"We don't need to know."
Your voice was clear when you explained,
"But we're all the time, waiting:
Elated by moments of divine
situated by the eyes
gifted to us by insight.
The river warns me of suspension,
or repose, awaiting unless we
pursue the intentions of our mind.
You and I will try
to find understanding and answers
to questions directed by All
to Space and Time."
I told you, "It'll be fine
to be left unknowing."
But you were so sure
you knew where we were going.
So in following you,
I was truthfully a coward,
too scared of that river below,
even though it ran shallow;
that the tellings of the moving
mirror pool could be true
against all rule or reason.
Thunder boomed. I saw the clouds
coming faster-- like the river
down under-- their dangers;
each equally a prison.
"We should find cover,"
I said to you, my eyes squinting
and bleary in the wind.
You laughed at me like I
"Then what would we discover?"
I knew better than to give answer
as from rock to stone we climbed
across the chasm hereby
unwisely invented in the mind.
I felt the earth shaking,
I heard waves breaking,
I saw the sun hiding.
The picture was bending,
visions unending; even as
I closed my eyes.
Then: blackout. The only accountable light
as of a golden circle, only
one eye, in the otherwise dark.
Had the world been torn apart,
we could not have seen.
But you saw the weakness in me,
and conceded my request to rest.
You read to me from the small light
as thought it were some sacred flame
because it's all the same to you.
This one had granted us warmth, though
we weren't in need. We nested between
fir trees, and heard birds come and go
as they, so clearly, pleased.
When recounting the message
from the flame to me,
you whispered to keep the world
from hearing our secret--
that we were searching.
(I thought this gesture to be
endearing). I trusted your word
for as far as I believed,
you're capable of infinitely more
than me. I trusted you now, blindly.
Then I felt us flying as two,
farther from our questions,
and, so I had to assume,
moving closer to our truths.
We could now cast aside
the closing gaps of logic--
a strange change of events--
for now my heart was exhausted
and my mind was spent.
My body felt absent, though
abundantly present was my
brimming soul, unbent and
unbroken. In that moment
I let myself believe in
my own trust in you;
in the whole universe, too.
I let myself give up the game
of guessing and reassessing
the same puzzle
with many trillions of parts,
where every edge aligns
with every other.
From our flying I felt a breeze.
Now there was earth beneath my feet,
stalks of grass brushing my knees.
I could open my eyes, I could
see. There was lichen on the trees
who's bare branches silhouetted the sky
and looked like black lightning
scattering in the wind. These,
instead of crossing the clouds,
intended on reaching up,
replicating shapes of our veins and
inhaling the oxygen, and rain,
and static of the rolling storm.
Energy mimicked it's perfect form.
Where were we now? Almost a bluff.
I watched you kick up dust
and kiss a piece of driftwood,
before tossing it abruptly,
as though, in doing so,
it would tell you something.
But we were lost from our
adventure in the dark. You
were intent on the journey
at large. I could have asked
that we might turn back,
but by then, I was fixed into this
journey, and learning with you.
So onward we went, with no
location to guide us,
just your breathless and
The driftwood had given us
an invitation to visit again
the cliff-sides, so we danced
upon its ledges. Below, there was
flooding of the riptides.
Watching them felt like
falling into the storm's sky.
I lost my footing on a mudslide--
on slick, rich red mud,
I slipped and fell right
into the spinning currents. First,
I had to fight, but I soon
loosened from my tight fear,
and let the clear water take
me under. It was dark again.
I recalled, then, that the river
coursed brown, not blue,
with all the dirt and
mud running through. I
crashed my elbow on the shoulder
where the water bent and curved,
and the peaks of waves spilled
over the banks. The current carried me
faster than any car or train
could ever, and I wondered where
you were; if I had left you behind.
I worried for you, though I knew
you wouldn't mind.
Now, within the river
was a clearing. All was
green and illuminated.
I felt like I could see
Of course, I was confused.
And more so, I was dazed.
You were there, waiting.
"Where are we now?"
I had to ask. I could tell
you knew I had to ask.
And what you said next
made me feel like The Fool
for not sooner recognizing;
"You and I are the same,
and we've only always been
in one, never-ending place."
I had hoped you would teach me
as though you were ever somebody else,
but you might just be the universe, itself.
And your long-played trick on me--
that joke you made--
it was all part of this moment.
It will always be the same.