That blue sky discloses an infinite array,
the depth of life through a looking glass,
and to say we understand is just a leap of faith,
within a complex and eternal play,
the rise and fall and transformation of being,
the fact that we exist at all.
Without an omniscient mind,
we wander the halls of shadows,
with little but a candlelight to unfold the truth,
and it is a ruse we know,
but still we conjugate verbs
and think we are linguists.
Eternity itself is quandary enough,
and in our deep pondering we surmise the troughs
and peaks of thought’s mystique,
until we are buried in our own assumptions,
with nothing but a flimsy hold on reality,
a stark realization of our mortality.
The sky to me is promise,
an endless hue of eternal possibility,
woven into a simple minds insecurity,
a penchant to know it all,
if and when I could understand,
my own implications to demand service.
Humility strikes a chord,
just knowing how small we are,
how vast life is and we a part
should be enough,
I guess its my curiosity that shackles me
to truth’s coattails, to know more that I’m capable.
Yet I’ll sit at night gazing at stars,
the flickers of light, life and death
in time’s elusive continuum,
and my mind meanders the rivers of flow,
the explosions and creations of life,
far beyond my sight, makes me glow.
Still, I can look into a mirror and know,
I am real, here, now, within this sentient
knowing but hardly showing a thought,
worth the salt of what stands before me,
a creation of omnipotent growth,
a plan of unfathomable scope.
Tony DeLorger © 2018
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