Mystery Unsolved

This morning, I did a triple-double, full-layout with a half twist and nailed the landing………and that was just getting out of bed. Every day is a gold medal at this age. There is a green landscape outside my window. Veins of leaves are bursting with chlorophyll, dappled with a dialectic of eastern sun.

I am thick with forest; it’s a made thing, this clash of light and shade. A jungle in my mind of bamboo shoots and sprouts of fern. Leafy trees bent and twisted for a sliver of a solar charge.

I climbed fruit trees as a kid and swiped a few backyard peaches. Mostly I liked sitting under their green umbrella imagining the shadowed world.

Now I am thinking great thoughts. They are so great they don’t fit in my brain and probably weren’t meant for me anyway as they circle the earth. These are the lyrics to a music of the spheres. The only anthem I observe.

Agatha had Hercule Poirot ravel the unraveled, as if. All suspects are to gather in the library. Why the library? Because perpetrators hide there in the pages.

Villainy arrives reliably and I let the detectives detect. The casual remark, the sneer or glimpse of a gun in act one, will explain everything as the curtain falls and all wrongs are righted.

Yet unsolved mysteries of the heart remain, exuberance unaccounted for, along with a disobedient illogic for which there are no alibis. Holmes needs Moriarty to test what is elementary my dear Whatshisname.

Someone will win the marathon but on the other side of town Sisyphus like all sleuths will never quite reach the finish line.         Still unanswered is why the Trojan War or any such abomination persists. No inspector inspects the crime of squandered lives.

Was it Helen’s face that launched the thousand ships or men's yearning for the feminine principle? Human folly lives alongside reverence for life and love unending.