Under it All

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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.

Copyright 2016 Brenda Davis Harsham

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

  1. 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!

    Liked by 1 person

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