Questioning the Why of my days

with their varied meter and purpose,

I can only tell you what I think-

because I know so very little:

Mostly I know few things matter

in the end because in the end,

there’s either quiet or music,

patterns or darkness,

there will be healing or we’ll forget,

you’ll be there or you won’t,

stories will last until they don’t,

and there’s little I know now

that means more than what I knew at six.