I do not always treasure
the questions
Sometimes a little proof
would be nice
A nugget of knowledge
irreducible
irrefutable
something tangible
to carry one through

I see certainty in some and
 - with a touch of conflicted envy -
wonder
how do they know
what must they feel
how can they not see
that
whilst I agree
admire
even desire
it simply
isn't that simple
(A pantomime aside:
   Oh yes it is
   Oh no it isn't
     (repeat
     to no meaningful conclusion))

I see certainty
in others
that chills like fever late at night
Their
(sightless) eyes wide open
(knowing) minds locked down
(empty) hearts burning
with a cold
cold
passion
that brings neither love
nor joy
The rubble of their passing
fear
hate
conflict
potential turned to ash

So whilst certainty eludes me
and the questions crowd on in
I guess I'll dwell in the tension
certain
of the certainty I prefer 
to remain uncertain in