Maybe it's not for us to know why

life is not the thing we think it is;

maybe it's trying to know us,

searching through our choices

and doing its best to console us

why we do not understand.

Maybe life is not a path that leads

but a kind of knowledge that holds us

in its hands, with the kind regard

reserved for those who only know

how to deny and fall.

Maybe we are too weak, too blind,

too ugly to be able to reflect on

what has made us this way. Maybe

life is a kind of invisible shield

to protect us from ourselves,

wishing it could do more

than just breathe,

caring too much to let us stay.

Maybe life is telling us

this is it.

16 February 2021