The payoff of wilderness wandering

I don’t know and may never know for sure about bottomless pits but in the pit of my stomach, way down in my gut dwells bottomless questions that I often bumped in during my fierce wondering in the dark hole of wilderness, where silence abodes

Somehow, each time I get there, silence rouses from its dream state, stretches, yawns and glows and suddenly it feels like home to me. A place where being and being there is not a crime, staying is always an option and leaving is recommended. It is so exotic, so captivating that I want to stay there and just ask questions and ask more questions and pry and probe and prod and then wait and wait and wait for the unanswered answers. Then I stomp out of there vowing to never return to ask questions and want answers to unanswerable questions.

Soon enough though, I am back sometimes just for the heck of it. Just knowing that I can come there under the terms and conditions of the cosmos. That’s what I love most about the bottomless questions. I knew there was a reason for those bottomless questions and why I never really care if I never get the answers when and as I expect. In the beginning that used to be a shock and a surprise at time a shocking surprise. I wondered, doesn’t God have tongue, cheek and teeth? I often waited for it to bite me! It never did and that was bittersweet. Now it is just sweet.

Whenever I choose to make my way back to the wilderness, death stands outside the door eavesdropping and wishing its time for it to spring in to its renowned responsibility. Then I hear it sobbing when it overhears that its gonna be a long, long time and a long wait before it escorts me to my final resting place.

It then scampered off. It’s sting fell off like a dead flower from its life support.

How’s that for a true story that I live to tell.