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Not Knowing

I am willing
to not know—

to linger
in that shadowy,
in-between place,

in the
awkward silence.

I am willing
to hold
the part of me
that is afraid
of the dark—

that desperately
wants to run
toward the first
faint glimmer
of light,
no matter the source.

I am willing
to have the patience
to wait
until the mud settles
and my mind
is clear,

to trust
the fertility
of stillness,

to seek
the clearer, brighter light
that burns
just beyond
the dark shadows.


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