questions sacred & profane (poem)

One of the things I love is that this blog, like my books, is at least on occasion being read by people I've never met (as well, of course, as others whom I have, and I love that too), who in some way resonate with what I have to say. You write, and you put it out there, and you never know where it goes or, indeed, if it is read, or if it means anything to anyone else. 

Then now and then someone says something nice – or sends you a poem based on an improvised exercise that you post here, like last week's.

This is one of those.

And here's the poem, with thanks to Vere Smyth.

~

Questions sacred and profane

Why is it now?

In the fullness of time
the answer will go away

Whose is that donkey?

Nobody knows.
I think it has always been next to the olive tree. 
Sometimes we hear her sobbing in the night.

What is this?

This is it.
But if this is it does this mean that this is all there is?
(yes)

Why am I at this meeting?

They came for me in a taxi. 
Tinted windows. 
A sense of purpose understood by all but not voiced.
There were others I thought I recognised. 
We drove through heavy Munich traffic until we arrived. 
I never found out why.

What is the potential impact of chromothripsis on carcinogenesis?

Two days ago I was walking, no, sauntering, through the woods. 
I came upon a small hedgehog. 
Beady eyes, whiffling nose. 
I will seek him out and see if he knows.

Why is it still now?

Time has not yet come to fullness.
Time is still partly empty. 
I’d rather be playing the trumpet.

How much is that?

That is that much. 
Which much?
Much much
Much much much
(much much)
MUCH!

But can you elucidate the Strategic Research Agenda?

Breathing in I am listening to Dietrich
Breathing out I am listening to Dietrich

When will cooperation replace competition?

A cool wind gently brushes aside the curtain.
Quick here now in the sweet chilling gap
Let go into the moment
A free fall into stillness
.

© Vere Smyth 2014