Who, What , When, Where, Why

There’s no one new except for me

in this extraordinary life.

No guidance,

no instruction card,

no inkling of wrong or right.

There’s nothing new in what I learn

that wasn’t there before my time,

no unrepeated pattern born

of effort, passion, need or whine.

There’s nowhere else to journey toward

when here and there are the same site,

like light rays in a mirror maze.

Which light is real?

All lights are light.

There’s no time set aside to wait,

tomorrow’s spun from today’s yarn;

today, a puzzle rearranged

from all the yesterdays of your mind.

There is no new reason to behold

of why a thing had come to pass:

you looked at life and drew it out

with fancy, yearning for and want.

Truth is confounded by the range

of all existence’s different hues,

and even twined in every thread

it’s so well hidden it eludes us.