Poem: March 3, 2019

What's Lost

Clarity is good.
We want clarity in the form of, say,
stop signs
or pregnancy tests.

It seems to me, though, that some things suffer
from abundance of clarity, or rather,
from a correctable absence of mystery.

For example, I would like there to be
more hidden compartments in things
whose purpose is left to the imagination.

And I would like to see an uptick
in the impractical. More ornamentation,
flamboyant clothing, and bad ass cars.
Anything that suggests, but doesn't tell a story.

And while we're at it, I'd like
to see a bit less transparency
from most of you on social media.

It would be nice to be left to wonder about
what you like and dislike, your history
and current relationship status.

To not know might invite a conversation
or might at least curb the temptation
to preemptively install virtual walls.

And wouldn't life be more interesting
without the mostly mechanical assurances
of saying "I love you" on the way out the door
or "I'm looking forward to seeing you"
whenever we make plans.

I mean, there might be exciting consequences
if we leave more room for doubt.

If, for example, school was less defined
by the concrete corridors of measurable outcomes
and looked more like something with a bit of quicksand
or the occasional dark alleyway or approaching storm.

We might find that we've kicked up a bit of silt
into the settled clear waters of childhood.

I understand that we all benefit
from water filtration and thermostats and GPS,
from the sterile environment and quality standards,
from best practices and the shoulders of giants.

Clearly, some things are best kept at bay,
or viewed through the pristine lenses
of observatories and microscopes.

I just hope to call to mind the romance of shadows
and remember the opaque pleasure of stained glass.