The Search for Meaning

Witness 500-years passing beneath the feet of the

Zunis’ dancing. It is a wonder indeed that we have

lived so long in the midst of our grieving. The

sycamore stands stripped of all its leaves, yet black

birds call from the branches for its revival come the

spring. Today someone will compose a letter of

apology which will never reach its destination.

The rib cage of an unknown beast lies in the grass

stripped of every ounce of flesh. Be mindful, my

friends, there is a lesson to be learned at every turn.

Believer or not, a brightly packaged revelation waits

for each of us under the Yuletide Tree of Discovery.

Since time immemorial, out of curiosity, every living

creature has turned its head when their name is called,

either approaching cautiously or beating a hasty retreat

from the unresolved Mystery.

Chris Hanch 12-11-17