Under it All

What’s under it all?
What secret rivers flow
through
dark cave systems,
home to blind fish,
white like the moon,
the color of wishing?
Where lie the bones
of the very last dinosaur
who wandered
all her final days,
alone?
Where lies the spark
that tells us we’re alive?
Where lie the questions
that seem more important
than the knowing?
The knowing
that every spring,
the flowers will bloom
from seed,
from root,
from bulb,
under it all.

Note: I’ve been reading Mary Oliver, and she’s been making me wonder. Do you like to wonder? Or would you rather know? Have a wonderful weekend. Warmly, Brenda

18 thoughts on “Under it All”

I’ve just been reading a blog friends post about how important it is to ask ‘why’, this makes me think of a similar feeling. I like to ask why and I do wonder about anything and everything! 🙂 Your lovely poem reminds me a lot of Mary Oliver’s style – I can tell you’ve been reading her poetry. She’s writes some wonderful poems!

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Brenda Davis Harsham says:

May 31, 2016 at 9:07 pm

I’ve been reading a lot of great poetry. It’s like a gordian knot. The more abstruse, the knottier the problem. Then understanding is like the sound of rain when you wake up. It defines your day.

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This is wonderful Brenda 🙂 And also, what is the lovely yellow Beauty?

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Brenda Davis Harsham says:

May 19, 2016 at 9:26 am

No earthly idea. My neighbors are generous with their burgeoning yards. Everywhere I walk, I see gorgeous blooms.

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Oh I do love a good wonder with Mary Oliver😆

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Brenda Davis Harsham says:

May 17, 2016 at 12:38 pm

You, too? Good to know she’s made her way out of New England and all the say to Scotland, like I have. 😉

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