Ask, if you must, the questions that persist:
How did it all begin?
Is there life after death?
Does God exist?
This morning, as I watch a bee
dive deep into a blossom on our
Rose of Sharon shrub, my questions
are far simpler, but no less cosmic:
How does it know to go there?
What compels it to do so?
What would it be like to be a bee?
We live surrounded by glorious mystery.