Curiosity Killed
Look at a flower: its fascinating features,
scented or scentless, brighten the day;
food for bees and butterflies and countless other creatures,
a miracle of nature, mysterious in its way.
But trying to fathom its secrets is mistaken;
pulling it to pieces, examining its heart
is death to the flower; its very soul is taken.
Better, far, the pleasure it gave at the start.
Similarly, songbirds, beloved and respected,
are lovely to hear and a joy to behold.
They lose all their charm once plucked and dissected
but some people need things neatly pigeonholed.
Watching stage magicians their reaction is tragic;
“How is it done?” is their ever present cry
but losing the mystery takes away the magic;
it’s lost in the moment you ask how or why.
Many situations provoke this reaction,
many a relationship is analysed to death;
sometimes enigma adds to the attraction
but some will question ‘til their very last breath.
Curious, incautious, they won’t be contented
until it’s in pieces, its relevance destroyed.
They may have their answers but now it’s lamented:
this thing they so loved and formerly enjoyed.