it is there, it is just there...

It is there, it is just there,
Something I should know.
Something I ought to’ve known.
That strange temper, that queer feeling of new,
earlier unknown senses and emotions
Mutter in my mind all day.
Oh, something there is,
Its just out there.
Fathomed only in shards,
It speaks of a deep mystery,
Longing to be solved.
Like a blind woman learning to see,
In front of me are thoughts at random
That sure would mean something profound
When decoded.
I may find it today or tomorrow or
Even while writing this poem down.
It is all there, just there,
The symptoms, the hints, the premonitions
But how do I know what is right and what is not.
Across the yawning gulf of mystery,
I feel a new bridge under construction.
A ray of hope.
When will it be finished?
When do I cross it?
Then I will apparently see things
Free from impediments,
Evident to the mind, unmistakably;
Which were mere speculations before.