An Other

all of life is a mystery
a vast intricate puzzle
and as for the pieces?
well, friend, you and me...

a dance at two in the morning
a spin or two around and round
leaves me with more questions
than when i first took your hand

the revelations renewed
the look in your eyes
the restful slumber you stole
all these, together, lead me to question

whether this piece of the puzzle
that i hold here in my hands
that i watch twirl about
whether i shall ever gain understanding

or whether, perhaps
it is best to acknowledge
the advent of complexity too dire
and to concede a mystery

perhaps it is best so
perhaps appreciation of mystery
is the skill i have yet to learn
and yet, i wonder, i puzzle

i don't get it
i don't need to get it
and that is
the beautiful thing

the words in the eyes
cannot be said, only felt
i feel them now
but i understand them not

what mysteries
what truths
what else is there for me to know
perhaps the journey is in the destination

perhaps the destination is in the journey
but then again, perhaps i am merely
writing down thoughts at two in the morning
i am not sure what i do not know

but i am sure of what i do know
i will trust, i will pray
i will see whither this road leads
i shall journey steadfast and true

the destination is unknown
the journey is already proving interesting
and meanwhile, mi'lady, care to dance?
ah, another spin, another smile, i see

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