The Wonder of It All

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The wonder comes over the transom,
under the door, through the darkness
to this twilight that never brightens.
It tugs at the corner of your heart like
a glint of “what’s-dat” does your eye.
The wonder has no shape, no aroma,
it silently speaks a language universal,
accompanied by a music omnipresent
that knows not time nor space.
It’ll touch you, make you jump
on goose-bump springs. The wonder will
caress you where you have nothing left
upon which to stroke and will leave
you changed for its coming and going.
And that’s the wonder of it all.

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2 thoughts on “The Wonder of It All

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