lensball on gray stone
Invisible What Stirs Us
Byron Hoot

The branches move; the wind
is present.  One moves
the other.  The constancy of what
is and what is not seen I know.
Not always comfortable knowledge
but undeniable.  And, therefore,
troublesome, more prevalent
than we care to admit; in fact,
apodictic.  I often prefer the denial
of the fact of things like wind
moving things like branches.
As troublesome as the Mobius
Strip of  Knowledge and Ignorance:
I know, I don't know, I know,
I don't which may be the oldest
mantra in the world.
The branches are moving and I
can't see the wind.