Make the bed each morning: defy despair.
Read the book each evening: savor delight.
Rituals are without regret or remorse.
I can’t summon the courage to prune—
not even dead branches: What about fate?
Or, if you prefer: Why invite the inevitable?
Let it break when it will break when it breaks.
Who can see why so well doubt never casts 
a shadow on certainty? It’s time to dust, 
and I always begin with the mirrors.
But in all the years of dusting mirrors
I’ve seen only dust. Beneath there's clarity.
There will always be more to foretell,
the seer always asking but already knowing:
Do you want to know more? and what?

Footnote

The question, “Do you want to know more? and what?” is one translation of what the Seeress asks Odin in the ancient Norse poem, “Voluspa,” from an equally ancient collection of poems, The Poetic Edda. Odin has come to hear the future, and wearily the Seeress asks, knowing always we want to know more. But we don’t want to know everything. Just some of everything. So: what?