The Mystery of Question X

You worked, paid bills, you socialised.
You vowed to mow the lawn,
To phone your mother, paint the door.
We do this till we're born
To other possibilities
Lost subtexts in this mess
For there is more to life on Earth
Than we might ever guess.

Adrift in sea of normalcy,
The chores, facades, routines -
we can't see life for all the living,
The scale of what it means.
We turn away from all things fey,
Find comforts and distraction.
The piquant thrill of the unknown?
No: quick-fix satisfaction.

But outside windows when the wind
Stalks October, chilling,
a candle, and a questing mind
Will stir a soul that's willing
To find the truth of Question X -
The lies behind our lives.
Conspiracies and mysteries
Which ignorance deprives.

How are we manipulated?
What is it they conceal?
What the hell's in Roswell,
Are filmed moon landings real?
JFK and 9/11,
Illuminati treasures...
These are laughed away, become
Misleading guilty pleasures.

Is Stonehenge an ancient clock,
The pyramids, tools for seers?
Are preternatural hands at work
When someone disappears?
Stranded monsters in the lake,
Huge footprints in the snow..
The bigger mystery, it seems,
Is 'where did mystery go?'

It's here if you will stop to look,
The corner of your eye.
A cynical, electric age
has only but to try.
Give the question time - throw off
Red herrings with which we're tasked.
The Mystery's not Question X -
But why it's rarely asked.