Too many question marks
without enough concrete periods.
I’m starting to wonder if there
were any periods at all…
or if they were merely mirages.
Maybe my once-there periods
encompassed unfounded assumptions.
I toiled and formed the perfect, protective sphere
to keep out the doubts and secure my beliefs.
Did I dig deep enough in the soil before I planted
my seedling periods?
(Oh, another question mark mocks me).
Will I ever leave this forest of questions
whose canopy blocks my view to clarity?
Or will I continue to roam from one question to another
as I stumble over the sprouts from the periods I planted.
The once rushing streams of confident statements
seemed to have been absorbed by the tall, robust trees who have
grown into Redwood questions.
The further I wander the thicker this forest becomes.
They say Wisdom stems from questions.
I never imagined the pursuit of her would be so disorienting.
I cling to the Lamp You have provided;
ceaselessly praying for more light to guide my wandering,
Maybe finding her requires tireless perseverance…?
(Is that a question or a statement? I hardly know anymore)
So I continue on in the murky, uncertain forest;
watching helplessly as my once-firm periods
grow into shoots of green leaves which
curve ever so gracefully to become