Once upon a time 

There was a question

But I didn’t really 

Understand 

What the question 

Was supposed to be 

Or which shape it had taken 

Or how it looked 

Or felt 

Or maybe 

I was too busy 

Thinking 

About the answer 

To give the 

Question 

The time 

And the energy 

And the respect 

For it to 

Be 

What it was 

Supposed to be 

 

And then 

One morning 

As bright as the day 

I knew the question 

It had been there all

Along 

Sitting pretty 

And I felt so 

Stupid 

Not to have known it 

Before 

But I didn’t have 

time for the

Question 

Any longer

 

Because now 

I had to worry 

About the 

Answer 

And the answer 

Was a ghost 

The answer

Was fleeting 

The answer

Was on the tip of my tongue 

Waiting patiently 

Until I thought

I had it 

And then it 

Was 

gone again

So Tantalizingly close 

And then 

So far away 

I couldn’t see

The wood or the trees 

And I spent 

So long 

Worrying 

And puzzling

Over this thing

I had come 

So close touching 

That one night 

I sat up 

Right in the middle 

Of my dreams

Awake in the cold 

And now 

coldly awake 

And realised 

I’d forgotten the 

Question 

Without which 

The answer 

Was useless 

 

And isn’t that 

The point 

Of everything