On the Interstate, my daughter tells me
she only has two questions.††Iím relieved
because she usually has two hundred.
I say,†Okay, letís have them, and she asks,
What was there before there was anything?
Stupidly, I think I can answer this:
There was grass, forests, fields, meadows, rivers.†
She stops me.††No, Daddy.††I mean before
there was anything at all, what was there?
I say that I donít know, so then she asks,
Where do we go when we die?††I tell her
I donít know the answer to this either.
She looks out the side, and I look forward,
then she asks if we can have some music.
From This Miraculous Turning (Press 53, 2014).
Used with the authorís permission.