I am no longer curious about the mystery. I’ve seen enough for one day.
Instead, let me see your body move, my imagination is broken.
I do not believe you will stick around, and don’t even know why you remain.
How we get what we get out of the uncertainty. Today I remember
the way it felt as a child to stand at the edge of Lake Michigan
consumed from the inside out by vastness. Later, in adulthood, scoffing
at any body of water I could see across, no longer a lake in my mind.
The elephantine consumes, too much void to leap into.
When the heart completely closes, what happens then?
Now that I think of it, maybe I should worry more about why I am here,
all the vague notions of purpose and service, why I remain.
What do any of us get out of facing the immensity
and, our hair whipping in its wind,
continuing to say yes.