The Unexplainable

The beat to the song I am listening to is slightly faster than I would like, but I guess that fits more than I would like to admit. It's a two four sort of beat that leads one to dance moves that are usually only appropriate in dirty dancing films. 

I have spent most of the last few days pondering questions I am still not sure appropriate. Like the moves I envision dancing playing to this song and beat, I keep wondering if I am entering somewhat dangerous territory. 

Everyday I wake up thinking I have a picture of You that is not only accurate, but relatable. The problem is, the more I live my life and the more I experience that which is off the grid, the more I realize, You... You must be more than I bargained for. 

My daily readings from the application I downloaded in a whimsical moment of justifying myself, have been of Ecclesiastes. "Nothing new under the sun..." right? It's as though the author is constantly reminding us, and himself for sake of a better audience, that nothing is original, nothing is new, nothing is shocking and noteworthy. And while that brings a great amount of comfort (since I cannot shock You the way I shock myself), I realize that original thought is moot point. 

I have spent a great amount of time pondering You, wondering if I could somehow see something that someone else missed... guess not. 

Incontroversally (a word I just made up), I realize that must mean You are a concept that has been over and over again worked, mollified, broken, worked again, taken to the enth degree, envisioned, foregone, forsaken, created, discredited, and worked again. 

An Entity that created the human mind and body, yet exists outside of the imagination of even the most crazed frustratingly hindered minds. 

As I twist in a U-turn that creates a 45 degree angle plus a right angle and then a slight left on Fst... wait... what? I laugh as I realize, there is no map that will contain You. 

I have a picture, a vision I keep tucked away. I version of perfection I think You may be. Then I realize it is so, so, so, so short. A million books, poems, pictures can never contain You, yet we never stop trying. 

And not for the sake of a reason... how, how are we to relate? So far from the Eden we were meant for, we swim in a lake that is a poor exception to the endless ocean You are. Yet the Eden that still exists in me continues to ask... Who are You?

I beg for a greater picture, for a glimpse of Your backside that won't take the last breath I know. Until then... I will continue to snicker at the foolish and silently partake in the endless cycle of those that believe in the unbelievable... A world with the Unexplainable.

You.