Research Cycle

 The Question Mark

 Vol 1|No 5|March|2005
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Wonder Song

© 2005, Jamie McKenzie

Sometimes I wonder
Then wonder some more
Mind wandering
From if to then
And back again
Round and about
Chasing its tail
Like kittens at play
Or autumn leaves dancing in the wind

When will it end?
When will it begin?
How long will it be?
And how short? how fat?
How thin, how tall?
How smart, how small?
A boy?
A girl?
A toy?
A bunch of daisies?
A sudden shower of hail stones?
What shall it be and when?
Sometimes I wonder
Daydream or ponder
Gaze out some window
Or lose my place on the page
I keep driving past my exit
Forget the wash
the dishes
the lawn needing mowing
the pile on my desk
As my mind wanders off
Trailing some whim or whimsey

How can we know?
What should we believe?
Who can we trust?
Who is my friend?
Who is my acquaintance?
Where does it all lead?
What does it all mean?
Why does it smell so good when it rains?
Except in the city
in July

Sometimes I wonder
And sometimes I don't
Sometimes my mind huddles
Shudders in the cold
Paces back and forth in the shadows
Half afraid
Looking the other way
Frightened by nothing much
Except some wind
Or steps following in the night
Or wondering after all
If it is OK to wonder
Is there something to worry about?
Someone to wonder about?
A rule or a law or a threat of some kind?

I wonder what color it is today?
The sky?
The alert?
The smile
The mood
The song

Most days I wonder without limit
Let the good times roll
And ignore the guards
And guardians
The killers of curiosity
The pushers of propriety
Conventional wisdom
And right-mindedness
Titling instead
Playfully at windmills spinning freely
Without any breeze
Wondering how they do that
How I could spin as fast
On a day so still

I wonder how curiosity
Could kill the cat
Nine times
And why
curiosity would bother
With poor little kittens
having lost their mittens
And wonder who came up with that story
Of curiosity
And dreams
as killers

Sometimes I wonder
What "Have a wonderful day!" means
When muttered with disgust
And why they might mutter at me
What I might spit back
But I bite my tongue instead
And wonder what bitter words taste like
And how it feels
To spit them in anger

But most of the time
I wonder about good stuff
and how to make it last
or return
how to spread it around
share it
or make it grow
like some huge wheat field
stretching beyond sight
until everyone is wondering
some are dreaming
many are reaching out
and faith strengthens
just as the wind turns bold
and the hill steep

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Credits: The photographs were shot by Jamie McKenzie .

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