Me:
I sat with knowledge one calm night,
And asked, “Do you live within the brightest light?”
She snickered and whispered delicate and moo,
“I live in questions more than you know.”
Me:
“But aren't you made of actualities and books,
Of scholars' words and keen looks?”
She grinned and shook her tender head,
“I'm more profound than the words you've read.”
Knowledge:
“I'm within the child who inquires 'but why?'
Within the rancher observing the changing sky.
In grandma's stories and quiet gazes,
In scars that talk of lived-out prayers.”
Me:
“Then why do people chase you quick,
As in case you're something they must grasp?”
She moaned, “They think I'm a wrap up line,
But I'm a travel, not a sign.”
Knowledge:
“I develop in hush, in botches,
In each chance your spirit takes.
Not fair in school or evaluated tests,
But within the throb inside your chest.”
Me:
“So you're not pride, or boisterous, or tall?”
She shook her head, “I'm none of all.
I'm humble, calm, sometimes shy,
I do not imagine. I do not wear ties.”
Me:
“But still, you direct, you shape, you show.”
She gestured, “Yes—but moderate, so moderate.
For in case you surge, you might fair miss
The best truths interior your bliss.”
Knowledge:
“I'm not the ultimate voice you listen,
I'm not the sound that makes it clear.
I'm the whisper some time recently the shout,
The outline that births another dream.”
Me:
“Then educate me, companion, to know you well.”
She said, “Unlearn your have to be tell.
Sit still, watch, and inquire again—
That's where I live. That's where I've been.”
And so I tasted her old tea,
Severe, warm, and wild as ocean.
And each glass she poured in me
Was not the conclusion, but a unused key.
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