Is the word a tautology?
It seems to mean “if less, less.”
Or is it, as in theology,
Tinged, like faith is, with a guess?
What will happen is contingent
On (an unless) what might not be,
Should the past or future invent
Some unclear possibility.
We use the word every day.
Are we afraid to speak the truth,
To even believe what we say
(Old, we say it — less in our youth),
Nor mean to understand unless
We think unknowing to express?
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.
