(x = space)
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Mystery Breathing
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I’m looking at my books
I think I really like
Mysteries,
Which is to say
Mystery
The numinous
The liminal
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Could numinous
Mean pneumo-
As in breathing?
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And more fancifully,
Myst-
As in fog
Though which
We go inexorably
As heartbeat
And do not know
What we’ll encounter
On the way?
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I mean,
I like the plain thing
That Jane or Hercule
Must resolve
And I like the modern things
By James
Or Aaron, Charlotte
Elizabeth
P. D.
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But there is the other thing that
Contents of books
Point to
Even to hold them
What’s in here?
Out there?
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Scary stories?
Parts of them?
Without doubt—shouldn’t
Faith be scary as
It’s thrilling?
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And then
The pattern seems to be
That all things
Will not be known
Until the end
With denouement to follow
If an epilogue
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Then
We reach for another,
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Which is why
We make a treasure-trove
Of libraries
Or simply having
Lots of books
That might be in forms
Of electrons
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We are curious
We want to solve
Even as we
Want to be resolved
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What are the greater mysteries?
How shall they end?
Maybe we should read together
Or at least
Discuss them
Piecemeal
On the way
All together
On the way
And over endings
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C L Couch
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Photo by Arthur Oleynik on Unsplash
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