What I Don’t Know

I heard it first from Socrates—
Wind through the mind,
Rosemary blossoms and bumblebees.
What I don’t know could fill a universe.

An atheist in high school, dismissing
Warring clans. Trademarking truth!
Pragmatically insisting that
What I don’t know could fill a universe.

I was married, divorced. With all
The best intentions of course.
So many opportunities. Am I cursed?
What I don’t know could fill a universe.

Soften your gaze and it becomes clear—
Gently crosseyed, leaping dolphins appear.
Learning in reverse that
What I don’t know could fill a universe.

Gurus at the pizza place—
Bringers of light! Yoga teaches
We can stand on our face.
What I don’t know could fill a universe.

At last, the sun in April. Glowing trees!
Illuminated day, breathing lilac!
Clouds too bright to see!
What I don’t know could fill a universe.

We Do Well To Let Go

Abrupt distractions—
Cherry petals affixed
To my boot soles, now
Peppering the pavement.

No, not pepper—
Pastel. Softness,
The sopping skies
Salted with sighs,

Cars cresting the round
Mountain, moving
Clouds in all directions.
Neon vaporous April.

We forget! How abruptly
We are reminded—
Trails of cherry
Blossoms beneath our feet,

We do well to let go.