We ask “why” a lot, trying to find answers to “why” something happened. Have you done this before? Have ever sat and wondered why? And, only come back to right where you started, asking the same question again, only finding no answer. As I did just this, a poem arrived.
Maybe the larks have the answers
Or maybe Jupiter and Saturn
Or maybe the summer crickets
They seem to make a lot of noise
Maybe the hummingbirds flight patterns have the answers
Maybe the monk in golden robes waiting in the waiting room resting his head
Maybe the wind knows
I keep asking the wind for an answer, and it never answers.
Maybe Kali, Isis, Mary, Sophia, Saraswati
I asked “why” too many times to hear an answer, to receive no answer.
The monk waiting in the lobby for 2.5 hours to see the doctor he seems to have the answer.
He sits amongst the noise, sick children, hungry men and women in silence with a light smile on his face
resting his head to his heart, silent.
Silence has the answer. It is the answer.