The Pull to Conclude

Before it Settles

When I return to these words,
there is a pull to make them conclude.

Conclusion is a noun.
Does that make it a thing?
Have you ever held one in your hand?

We are graspers.
It’s the thumbs, they say.

We don’t see objects,
we see what they’re for.
The brain moves ahead,
mapping how things will fit in the hand.

Held.
Where to go, what to do.

I’ve never held a conclusion.
But I know the feeling.

Certainty.
A kind of endorphin.
Chest lifts.
Feet ground.
Hands ready.

Or softer:
sit back.

Curiosity fades.
Nothing left to reach for
when something is known.

Conclusion does the holding.

So I want to conclude.
Who doesn’t want to know
what all this is?

To settle.

Life is a noun.
So am I.
But I won’t.

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