Curiosity

Who knows what we'll sow
when the seeds choose where to grow?

Water flows where raindrops go,
molding mountains like playdough.

Who knows when to wait
if the path only delivers us late?

The silence of the journey
sets the world's wonders straight.

Who knows where to wander
when the waypoint's guide so saunters?

Is the final destination
a place still to be pondered?

Who knows who to ask
when God's stopped teaching class?
The fratboys drank a tank and cask;
disciples lost their past.

Who knows how the Truth can hide
from those afraid to die?

Once we've reached the next life
it becomes part of the ride.

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