What happens when we stop 
asking questions? What if instead 
we had kept on, like a child 
of God asking why? why? but why? 
If we had trusted enough 
to stay in our cautious curiosity, 
allowed our anger, even outrage 
to feed a sceptical hope. 
He was our mirror; turning away 
we forgot how he looked 
a little like a boy we once loved. 
I could wish that instead of walking 
away that like Jacob, I had wrestled 
until there was no more night, 
no more stars falling silently to light; 
only the breaking open of day 
and the delicate wound of God.

No one was able to give him an answer, nor from that day did anyone dare to ask him any more questions. (Matthew 22:46)