I’ll Never Really Know Her, But
Who is she, really? I don’t really know.
Should I know her more fully? I suppose so.
Can I fully describe her? Not possible.
“To know her fully”. What does this mean? It makes no sense.
Not possible, so complex, always in flux.
I can’t even describe myself. Nor do I try.
Impossible, each day we’re new along with everyone, everything else.
It’s how it is.
I savor and appreciate her, each day, and the next.
This is what matters. It never ends. There’s always more.
More than my senses will ever comprehend.
I’ll enjoy the new her, all of her, today and tomorrow.
Becoming meaningful days.
So I don’t try to know her.
There’s so much more.