Answers

What do you do
when you want to go home
but you're not sure where that is?
Do you turn?
Do you turn back?
Do you promenade?
Are you left or right-handed?
What's your sign?
Do you want to dance?
Do you know Jesus
Do you have any grey poipon
Pardon me, sir, but I have one question...

You see I thought for a minute
That you might have an idea
But now as I watch you sitting there
Pretending...
Imparting your words of wisdom
Regarding this or that
Or was it the other thing?
I can't remember anymore

Bringing us back to the point
Which is...
that there have always been
more questions, than answers.
And that is, after all, what we live for.
The answers are always, at least, a pause if not a resolution.
It's always the questions which keep us moving,
which make us wake up in the morning
to pursue the elusive answer.

Sometimes I just wish I could go back to the time
When I didn't know...
Oh, what I wouldn't give to wonder again!

It's the questions we love to love
Answers are so final.

(this was the last poem written in the notebook shared by Kristy & Sharon)