Say a Person Suddenly

finds himself saying (herself saying)—
in the shower, perhaps, or while eating a bowl of cereal—
I don’t know what to do, I just don’t know what to do.
Let’s assume that within the scope of daily obligations
the person really does know what to do—
knows how to get to work
and how to do his job there (her job there),
knows how to plan for the events of the weekend
with family and (let’s make a leap of faith here)
friends. What, then, is one to make of this—
what shall we call it, beyond-one’s-control
utterance? Maybe you yourself have known
such a person, have heard her say (him say),
at the beginning of an outwardly promising
day, I simply don’t know what to do. Well,
I ask you: what were you able to make of it?
What insight can you bring
to this issue before us? After all, the sky
is perfectly clear this morning, the light
of that brilliant clarity one associates with
(I know, I know, these terns are loaded)
the spiritual, the inspiring.
A simple glance out the window,
one wants to say, would reveal the uplift
of it all (see how the trees sway slightly
in the breeze, how their leaves, like hands,
seem to beckon). Of course we both know
this isn’t the first time we’ve heard (uttered?)
this utterance, know that what’s “out there”
simply isn’t present in here. “In here” ‘s
another story entirely.