Questions by Christina Knowles

The soul clings to its impressions
A deeper seed it plants
There are no answers to my questions

Searching for release of its expressions
In adoration the soul will dance
As it clings to its impressions

Powerless and prone to take suggestions
Promised such beauty, it’s entranced
Yet, there are no answers to my questions

Lost in amazement, the processions
Gather at the feet of Romance
The soul clings to its impressions

Diminishing material possessions
Quenching spring, the soul’s desire it grants
Still, there are no answers to my questions

No remedy for our transgressions
No vague emptiness it supplants,
But the soul clings to its impressions,
And there are no answers to my questions.–Christina Knowles