Monday, 28 April 2014

Day 28: 20 Questions, or Thereabouts...

I'm opting today for an earlier NaPo prompt I declined -  to write a poem composed entirely of questions. (Because that's where the Muse took me! And try as I might, I'm not feeling much love for the picking apart of news stories, which is today's prompt...)

This poem comes from one question that recently popped into my mind and that I can't get out.  Do you have the answer?


The Ones

When we find ‘the one’ -
that epic romantic grail end -
what happens I wonder

to the memory 
of all those other ones

The not-sures, the nearlys, 
all the lovely light-as-laughter

likes, not loves? 
The proverbial practice pancakes
that flew, then flopped?
Precursors to perfection,
the necessary understudy 

lessons in being 
of our own hearts -

where do they figure
in the grand scheme of fate?

Are they simply forgotten?

Like knowledge when an exam
is done? Dominoes knocked 
down to reveal
the last standing one,
the toppled like strewn 

soldiers left to die
in unmarked graves? 

Are they simply footnotes
to the final peace? 

A crass countdown? All their 

flairs and fares now 
irrelevant, redundant?
No more than an indifferent 
means to the enigmatic end?
Pointers on a map only
of temporary significance
to the treasure at hand?

Or are they secretly submerged
the one? Like a collage
of jigsaw pieces?
to complete a recipe? Tapers 

to light a bigger flame?  
Are they all predestined parts

of the final blueprint,
like Russian dolls
inwardly stacked?     
Too steady in numbers
to ever fall?

The last one, the only one

a bric-a-brac of befores
and never mores? 

A gain of losses? True
love not necessarily
new, but known,
just a bittersweet 

winding up win?

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