The Certainty Of Uncertainty

We spend our days chasing answers
Like thirsty men in a river,
Dying not from lack,
But from the confusion of abundance.

The child longs to be a man,
The man wishes to be a child again
Time laughs in a language
None of us ever fully learn.
We build walls to feel safe,
Then windows to feel free,
Only to discover
That both are prisons of different shapes.

The wise man speaks of knowing,
Yet sleeps with questions under his pillow,
While the fool shouts certainty
From the rooftop of borrowed thoughts.
We run from pain like fire,
Yet it is pain that forges our names;
We pray for easy paths,
But worship the stories born from storms.

Even love
That gentle tyrant
Gives with one hand
And quietly takes with the other.
And in the end,
After all our running, building, naming
We arrive at a place we never left,
Calling it discovery.