remembrance and gratitude

“why?”
sliding down
childʻs voice
through the air of mystery
swooping back up,
a swallow-flight search
for bits of knowledge
light
insight
to fill a curious fledgling soul
crying to be fed
“why?”
“why? why? why?”
but the walls of the world
crash down,
lofting winds cut
from underwing,
abandon hopes of soaring above mysterious mountain,
beyond unknown source of river,
beyond skyʻs blue,
beyond star ribbons.
feathers of flight stir
dust,
leaves, dead,
drowning in the dry dirt
scratching out a tiny grave
epitaphed:
“because”
these days,
i donʻt fly
whyʻs are too ugly, too fresh;
wing stumps and feather roots,
unhealed,
ooze tears;
abandoned dreams long-since shriveled and scattered
to dry, dusty corners
of cement,
await
reclamation
by decay.
looking up,
the sky, the mountains, the rivers,
they are there
while they are.
wisdom:
perhaps
that should be enough.
