Pages

Thursday, January 12, 2023

May

Such trouble in the one word “may.”

An uncertainty, yet wishful; we pray


That tomorrow may be the day.

It is only vaguely referential


To the undone and potential.

It is, like a dangling piece of rope


To be climbed with fearless hope.

It is, behind a shapeless curtain,


The hidden seeker of the uncertain.

It is, the unanswerer of whys


And the unopener of the eyes.

May is only a suggestion,


A marker for the unknown question

We seldom pay attention to.


There may be so much else to do,

You hardly know that you are you.