Are too small for us…

Like people,
they run from us—

frightened of being caught,
of acknowledging their own feelings,
refusing to be simple,
refusing the question,

because they believe
they are larger than either.

Foolishness and craze
follow in their wake,

leaving us disoriented,
lost,

wondering—

Did any of it really happen?

Did you see that?

Am I imagining things?

We hope the answer
will come to us,

but they have questions
of their own.

They do not belong to us,
nor us to them.

We search with hungry desperation.

Still, they evade
the mind’s desire
for simplicity, understanding,
or control.

They ache inside our hearts,

pulling us,
driving us through life,

only for us to look back
at the mess we’ve made
and say—

wasn’t that wonderful?

That we didn’t know.

That we were so foolish.

That crazy
was all our hearts wanted.

The nonsensical longshot,
known only through madness,
desperation—

that somehow feels so right,

and is worth the agony,

even if we miss.

We can stand there—

looking back
and say,

wasn’t that wonderful?

Look how I tried.

See how I loved.

And never knew
the answer.