It can seem like
small comfort,
I know
to let it go—
to release our hold
on the certainty
whose precision
we have counted on
all this time,
that blade
with which
we have cut through
every doubt.

When mystery
comes, then,
may we open
our hands.

May we give ourselves
into the uneasy mercy
that meets us with
its curious remedy
and the healing
that a question
can hold.

The words of Jan Richardson.