The real mystery
You went on a trip around the world and arrived back
having never crossed your front porch.
Viewed your whole journey
through your living room windows;
between the same faded curtains;
behind the same smudged glass.
You arrived back at the beginning, immaculately self-preserved;
while your true adventure remains unexplored.
O child of God, pace the worn-out carpet of your own abode.
That's where the real mystery lies.
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