One Hundred and Eighty Four 10.28.16
I love questions.. I think I might even love them more than answers, they shift something in you, they throw you off balance, they break the natural flow of boredom in parties where everyone is constantly trying to figure out how you make money, where you live, and all the other interview questions… no one is asking me if I had tea or coffee this morning, or what my shoes sizes are, or do I peel and eat my banana from top or bottom, or how does that day tastes like, or if the soul has a texture..Happy Halloween Y’all – Keep it weird!
Mary Oliver
Some Questions You Might Ask
Is the soul solid, like iron?
Or is it tender and breakable, like
the wings of a moth in the beak of the owl?
Who has it, and who doesn’t?
I keep looking around me.
The face of the moose is as sad
as the face of Jesus.
The swan opens her white wings slowly.
In the fall, the black bear carries leaves into the darkness.
One question leads to another.
Does it have a shape? Like an iceberg?
Like the eye of a hummingbird?
Does it have one lung, like the snake and the scallop?
Why should I have it, and not the anteater
who loves her children?
Why should I have it, and not the camel?
Come to think of it, what about the maple trees?
What about the blue iris?
What about all the little stones, sitting alone in the moonlight?
What about roses, and lemons, and their shining leaves?
What about the grass?
One Poem At A Time 