So many I-don’t-knows!
Everyday there is some new sight, some new factoid, some new trigger for my I-wonders.
Here are today’s:
I don’t know why robins sing before the dawn, and then yield the field of skysong to the chickadee and junco and warbler. I wonder if they just tire out and take it slow the rest of the day?
my I don’t know prayer
more I-don’t-knows
more I-wonders
to ponder and pray
may I be blessed in stillness
for more not-knowing
photos & poem
©2024 Patricia J. Franz
I don’t know why the elusive snow plant appears in different locations every spring. But I look for their red joy in the vicinity of previous apparitions –like St. Bernadette of the high Sierras.
I don’t know if the blue flax that lights the bike path, waving at passersby, is as happy as she seems. I aspire to her mindfulness. I wonder if she is as graceful when no one is looking? If she offers cheery conversation to the neighboring mule ear and wild buckwheat?
I don’t know if the yearling cubs have dispersed, if their mamas taught them well to find the early thimbleberry, the late-wooded grubs hiding in the deep forest. I hope they are well-fed and refrain from ambling into town in search of trash cans.
I don’t know who needs my prayers the most or who thinks they need them the least. But they are all included today –with the robin, the snow plant, the flax, and all those one-year-old bears.
Our friend Ruth Hersey offered our July “I don’t know” prompt. You can find her reflection and the links to others here.
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Patricia, this is beautiful. The robin’s quiet afternoon, the snow plant popping up here and there, the mindful flax, and those sweet one-year-old bears! Oh, my. I am here delighting in the wonders and I don’t knows of this post. I’m praying your prayer today, especially “may I be blessed in stillness for more not-knowing”
Thank you, Denise. It’s my prayer and my plea!
Patricia, I love the fact that there is something to wonder about every day. I think the not knowing why things happen gives meaning and direction to our day. It adds a touch of surprise to our lives when we stumble upon somethi9ng new to wonder about. They are awe inspiring moments. Hope all of your days are filled with “I wonders”.
Thank you, Bob. I’ll lean into letting the “not knowing” give meaning and direction. I like that!
This is beautiful. I love how you used nature to express your wonders, or your I-don’t-knows. The lines of your prayer will be going into my notebook: “may I be blessed in stillness for more not-knowing.
My I-don’t-knows almost always begin in nature!
There is stillness and observing in your thoughtful wondering. We don’t know all the answers and I think we shouldn’t.
I agree, Margaret. Mystery can remain mystery.
I love this, Patricia! Thank you for starting my morning so beautifully. I’ll try to post later today.
Those last two lines! A wonderful prayer.
Patricia, your prayer is short and to the point,
may I be blessed in stillness
for more not-knowing
This theme Ruth sent is one that sent me pondering as you did also. From the nature point of view you you found ordinary moments for your I-wonders. Nature persuaded you to really add a calm quality to your post this month.
It’s early morning & I’m going out before the heat drives me back in, Patricia. Thank you for taking us on your own walk, seeing those wonders where you so beautifully answered the question, and now we all know! “May I be blessed in stillness” is an answer to our needs. Have a wonderful weekend!
Your prose poem is as beautiful as your poem-poem!
I loved taking this walk with you and the thoughts and wonders you shared with us. Thanks for reminding us of the value of not knowing and wondering and how it can lead to stillness.