Y is my letter
because it asks
why
my question
rooted in the ground
split
one shoot to science
the other to the silence of God

y is your letter too
I can't address you
without y
or I would talk babytalk
to oo

Y splits
my serious side
from my buffoon comedy
yoke and yokel
begin with y
but take you
in different directions

a capital Y is like a split hair
and yin and yang
begin with y
which can be small
because the commonplace
is

but y is my letter
I do not yield the floor
but ask
the heavens so far
but near
I ask
the eye
within
that is the yolk
of the soul
why?

no answer
but the yak of what and how
or the self-serving revelations
of ayatollahs

I ask
like a drop of water
why?
hoping to wear down
the universe
though few answers
satisfactory
unless our peaceful dreams
of God
are true

but you and I
only dream
though the clerics chatter
the parishioners grieve
the irrational believe
and why
all this sin and expiation
all this hullabaloo
over the talking monkeys
that strangle each other

why?
can not our thoughts, emotions
leap
into a joyous lyric of praise?

was not creation doomed
to be flawed
and only a matter of time
before free will
dropped like wax
from a candle

why
God
why
all that primitive anger
we thought you
were above it all

or are you too
flawed
a contradiction
of the definition
the Perfect Being

why

or if Nothing rules
a quantum yo-yo
why
must we be tortured
with a mind?

certainly
these questions drive people crazy

but I still want to know
why?

stars burn
I question