Humanity is weeping
with the mystery of Now.
Misery multiplies like questions-
the invention of answers,
the fakery of assurance,
desperate for any security.
Knowledge of Good
and Evil got everyone
nowhere and it seems we can never stop.
We broke the everlasting
circle of our lives and made it into a rigid line. Are
we the inventors of time? An unchained
necklace, and death
the clasp? Who
cannot help but eat the fruit
of an understanding tree
when discovery mothers
curiosity? We imagine it desired
until we learn it becomes
an insatiable need. How might we
be free from our own twisted webs
knotted tightly across our worlds,
without severing the cord
which feeds our hope
into waiting wombs of trust? Oh, God
we must find the key to our selves
and nothing else urgent as this-
this calling to seek and ask
and stand at the door
with our fistfuls of Why
and a battering ram
of How Long, How Long, O Lord?