Mystery calls to us. It harkens in on the quiet morning mist. It tickles us as dusk falls around us, washing our world in shadow. It asks us to open the door. To let it in, so that we may see that the answers we seek have been with us all along. So that we may learn to trust the knowing that lies deep, bred into bone and blood and sinew. So that we may learn to dance with the light and shadow, the known and the curious, a faintly mischievous smile ever on our lips.