Engagement

We met at a dinner party,
Two bored people talking,
'Your status?' he asked,
'Engaged,' I said.
He smiled. 'Congratulations,
To whom are you engaged?'
'Not whom,' said I. 'But what.'
His brow furrowed,
The cogs ticking,
The worst was imagined.
I dug; 'And not to, but with.'
He paused, more cogs, then said;
'So what are you engaged with?'
I smiled and thought - Humans!
We are good at puzzles.
'I am engaged,' I said,
'With the world around.'
And waved my arm expansively,
To illustrate my point.
'That's great,' he said. 'Really great.'
A pause. We sipped our drinks.
He shook his head.
'But what does it mean?!
A relationship with the world?
Or is it a job?
Or', he said, a false accusing look,
'Do you try to baffle me,
With pseudo-intellectual nonsense?'
Confusion reigns. The conversation,
At a tipping point.
Explanations can kill mystery,
Leave intrigue an empty hulk.
But I sighed, took a breath.
'We all have it,
A relationship with the world,
It is our master,
Ruling our days, our nights,
It is our most intimate relationship,
One we must explore, embrace.
There is no relationship,
With just one person,
If the world is ignored.
All life must be embraced,
Before others embrace us.'
'Okay...' he mumbled,
'I've, uh, got to find my wife.'
'Just married?' I ask; he nods.
'Congratulations!' I say,
Slightly raising my voice,
As he is lost in the crowd.