We are taught to know love,
a spectacular spiritual solemnity
we embrace
wonder
wander through our lives
with a constant
in some evaluative sojourn.
We know lives
touch the spirit of others
in quiet encounters
a silence can speak so
tenderly in its clarity
to know her,
answer him,
wander through a myriad
of human condition
centered proclivities.
Yet in the quiet
of loss
of tragedy
of the knowledge
we do not have,
though sometimes protest
to hold the key
to why it is
who we are
what we might become
in such judgment
we can never really know
beyond our ability
to show compassion
in the eyes of hope
For it is this confusion that draws
the most stolid heart to tears.