What makes the fallen ash leaves curl when they touch the hard ground? Does looking down at the ground make the circling vulture dizzy? How many nuts buried in the ground will last the winter for a squirrel? Will the ground remain solid beneath my feet as I stand in uncertainty?
Which color best describes the way a mourning dove cries in the morning? How many days walking in the rain before the last leaf falls to the wet ground? At what time of day is it best to alter the God that appears at the Altar? How many differences are there between the oppressed and their oppressors?
Learning to like questions is different from learning questions. Learning to like others is different from liking others. And if you learn to like questions, then you can learn to like others.
birth, a forced exile into the land of asking, why?
Why is there always enough space after dinner and before bedtime to ask one more question? What makes a two hour sail in the burning sun too long for any questions to be asked? How does my gaze fall upon the one book I have wanted for a so long stacked in the midst of questions? And, as the Psalmist asks, "What profit is there in my blood, when I go down to the pit?"
And where does the word 'and' appear in your daily speech? And how often does it end your sentences knowing the endless horizon approaches? And does it wrestle with the undoingness of 'but' hoping only to be spoken aloud? And does it like to mix itself all up at times with a few friends to go to the dance? And...?
What is the chance for destruction to follow the same path, by wind or by water or by fire, twisting, taking, turning, collecting possessions into its embrace? Is the death of one child not enough or must the demands of the demons who cry, More, make offerings a daily ritual, to be met with trembling and with tears once again?
How do you find the light staring into the hallway mirror at your twin? Can intimate teaching be found in the midst of farewell discourses in the entrance hall? How many ask themselves walking down the hall, Will this time be different? Where does the doorway outline shining at the end of the hallway come from?
What is a modern vision as opposed to keeping the old vision alive, moldering in some forgotten corner? How long must we err on the side of caution before coming to a decision to look for new ways of singing a joyful song? Must the professional sinners of failed repentance complete their terms before dipping into the well of happiness?
Wouldn't it be lovely if on the way to the why the steps of how would appear, one after the other?