Wonder is the telltale sign
That a heart cares about
What it does not know.

One mind is doused at not being told,
And another is set ablaze—
And the parable that puts the one to sleep
Keeps the other going into the night.

And who but from wonder
Would ever figure out its value
Without being told?—

Who would discern that it is
No oversight on God’s part
That the scriptures do not tell all—

Nor a signal that we have no need
Of knowing such—

But rather, that what is left out
Is his enticement to the wakened soul—
And the wonder, our part
In that divine romance?