...Well?

poem

Don’t tell me “all will be well”

you know nothing more of the future than you do the horizon,

other than that it is there,

and that it will bring something.

But please, don’t tell me the quality of that something.

What if I fall and bash my head and can no longer speak?

Shall we call that “well”?

What if the world runs out of water and ‘war’ becomes a trite synonym for everyday existence?

Is this too “well”?

What if it turns out heaven is not nearly what you imagined?

“Well”?

But perhaps you mean something more transcendent than all of this.

Maybe you are speaking of things like Love (or faith), and the hope

that these too will remain, somewhere

tucked away in the crevices and crags of our being

together.

In which case I would say, true.

There is that.