So little I know
So then the pad is found
To discuss the pity of my ignorance;
In looking for an empty page
My eyes cross a statement made
When the heat of a moment brought me
To this posture before
The thoughts turn, spin aimlessly
But the words drop into place
One by one, tumbling like the innards
Of a complex lock
Sure, programmed in sequence
And I without the combination
Sometimes the words open doors
Or set off alarms
Often they just turn and fall
Because I like the sound of it
Between feeling and knowing
Rests doubt
For the times I say I know what I feel
Outnumber the times I feel what I know
Doubt cowers with numbness
I’ve seen them together, before and after
Yet now a guide comforts me
In these times of change and fear
Heart and mind grab a booth, order coffee
Make points and draw diagrams on napkins
Which grow wet on the table
And fall by the wayside
I cannot be trusted with these decisions alone
I resent freefall, list gravity in an inventory
A voice says
“If you don’t cut the strings, you can’t wear the wings…”
I remain puzzled that my guide would
deliver such a trite rhyme
So I move on
And feel something
But the surest thing is the fact
That there is
So little I know.