Some people live in a world of puzzles.
Questions not answered.
Where is their faith?
Where is their certainty?
How do they hang
from their toes like that?
Always coping with questions,
never finding solutions.
But that is the way
some people live.
Perpetual doubters.
Gifted gadflies.
They never learn to play.
Make up things.
Make dolls out of sticks,
push trains to take journeys,
throw balls, and see the air
throw them back.
See mystery as a fire that
kindles stories inside them,
being,
content with limitations,
ingenuous with monsters.
And leaving unsolved questions
to a higher order,
that goes bump in the night.