When you are trying to change the questions,
you have to realize that many people are quite
resistant to such a change.
They like the answers they have.
boxes of questions
What to do and not,
each easily rising
to a reason d’etre
until change comes
creeping in fury.
Storms free questions
in less than a night hour,
hollow howls of hundreds
of years from thousands.
To root in sand and red clay is
to sway until the ground
Each storm bigger than the
belief in a 6000-year-old earth
with dinosaurs boarding an ark.
A way of life feeding Nature,
her answer written on the wind
Questions are how
we survive our thinking,
picking up a piece here and there
of what we once believed.
What if we left the pieces broken?
Brimming with story, no longer confined
as answer, they live to tell.
Why make them into what they are not?
It never holds forever, Answer.
Not one dark corner will they not reveal,
Nor rubble will they not clear.
Revelation, the stuff of storms,