Why Now?

My father was a Catholic.
Took his wine, crossed himself,
Said all the pretty Latin words
Because back then it wasn’t English
Or anything else, and he remembers
How to pray in a language he can’t speak
And remembers the days when nobody even
Pretended to understand God.
And my mother’s not much of anything:
Says there’s no God, but I was here before,
The way I blinked at the world
And went back to sleep, with no curiosity,
When I was born – I have been before
But there was no God to make that true.
And my brother is an atheist:
No God, no nothing, a void out there,
And we hang in space on the side of a penny
Waiting for the slip that will take us out
Into the width of the solar system
And we breathe our last in a myriad of stars
And that’s all okay.
 
And then there’s me.
And I’m not the same;
I think nothing at all.
Too busy for what’s out there,
I need to know what’s in here
And that’s the world for me.
I can’t wrap my mind around
A place out there
With a man in a chair
Or cycles of people
Again and again
Coming back to the place they came to long before.
I don’t understand:
Someone talk to me.
Whether or not,
Here we are,
And here is where we’ll always be
Until we find the truth
So why hunt now?