I don’t always trust the answer.

Too polished.

Too fast.

Too final.

The question?

That’s something else.

A better question doesn’t rush.

It doesn’t beg to be solved.

It waits.

A better question is often the first sign

something is misaligned.

Sometimes it shows up as doubt.

Sometimes wonder.

Sometimes ache.

Sometimes “Why does this still hurt?”

Sometimes “Why don’t I care like I used to?”

Sometimes “What now?”

or “What if not this?”

The question is how I know what is indicated.

With what matters.

With what I can no longer ignore without cost.

Without paying the price of my attention.

The question arrived before the answer was welcome.

Before I was ready.

Before I could explain why

it was indicated.