Questions & Answers & Most of All, a Question

There are many questions to ask, answer, be denied—
some come from snowdrifts, others out of spring air.
The answers may be tiny assassins of our pride
but for none to come at all, I simply could not bear.

There could be a YES, the most wonderful of all,
a spear-headed rainbow sunk into a pot of gold.
A warm gust of wind, a cool silver waterfall—
The itty, bitty beacon that flickers in the cold.

But still lurks the NO, which has its many ways,
creeping and sneaking into every good thing.
With its truncated snout, it whines and brays,
and rips hands from hands and bites off wings.

And still there are others, like the WHAT?—
WHO ARE YOU? and always MAYBE SO.
So many answers lie in wait; I better cut
right to the chase before the I DON’T KNOW!

There is nothing to circle, no games to play.
You’re awesome, and beyond belief pretty.
It’s clear, I’ve run myself out of words to say.
Callie, will you go to Finale with me?