The Answer

What is life,

but a series of questions?

Every answer comes

surely, faithfully,

always, in its own

perfect season.

As a sickly child, I asked,

when will I feel better?

My mother would say,

When the sun is shining,

and the birds start singing,

that is, the next morning.

As a lovesick teen, I asked,

when will I find love?

My friends would say,

When you meet him, you'll know

he will not hesitate to show

how ready he is to love you.

As an exhausted doctor, I asked,

when will I find rest?

My fiance would say,

Absolutely nothing.

(he is the extremely quiet type)

Instead,

He will pull me into his arms

and he will let me cry

or make me laugh

or let me fall asleep

or get me to eat...

He needs no words

for my overthinking,

questions unending,

poems unrhyming,

he simply is

the answer.