What We Don't Understand
        ... Myth gives man, very importantly, the illusion
        that he can understand the universe and that he
        does understand the universe. It is, of course, only
        an illusion.
                Levi Scrauss, Myth and Meaning

looks up at us and begs. It sits up. Bends
its outstretched paws at what would be the wrists—

we think it looks like us, or something like us,
but ... different somehow. It has a tail. And there's

something in the eyes, something deep. But it wears
strange clothes: a collar, thick fur. And it knows

we're lost, we haven't got a clue. Wouldn't know one
if we saw one. And it's true, we don't, we wouldn't.

But its tail thumps like our poor heart beating
and what we don't understand welcomes us home,

gives out its message in sharp, nearly comprehensible
bursts. We love that. And we bark back, our blunt

tongues wagging. We think what we don't know
loves us, but we can't even call it by name.

So we give it a name. It's mysterious. And for all
we know we might be saying footstool, pig's eye,

Or rich, black dirt. We'll never be sure. But we
go on. And we brag; we write long and painful essays

On our progress. Others read them. But what we really understand
is this: We want. And what we can't comprehend

is unfathomable. What we hear is the wind
and our own fears rumbling. But we could

be mistaken. We are often mistaken and
so little is visible—for instance,

the wind and what we do not know. What
we don't understand. What sounds

like it might be our home—unknowable
wind and the black, thumping heart of the world.

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Copyright © 2019 Renée Ashley All rights reserved
from Minglements
Del Sol Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission