Riddles And Riddles And More Riddles Poem by RIC BASTASA

the riddles are not getting rid of me
and they keep on multiplying riddles and riddles and riddles
without a hint as to the answer
but i am not at all surprised or frightened or eager to answer each
mystery, i am relaxed and comforted to the idea of
myself:

i am a question without an answer.
everyday i grow and i know not where these tendrils are anchoring themselves.
i go where the wind hushes where i think i may feel better.
i put my feet on the ground and the ground moves like a planet orbiting
its own path within its unknown universe.
i breathe the air to live some days more but what is it that makes me alive?

i am not frightened anymore.
I get used to all these: i do not know. yes, i do not know. but

i am.