The Question

The water is smooth and dark, still, like glass.

Looking down I watch as tumbling clouds pass.

Yet the sky is above me, it’s a reflection I know,

as when in a mirror I look, my face it does show.

At times I think “I exist” “right now,this is me”

and I know we don’t understand what is reality.

For all science can tell me isn’t worth a damn

irrelevant and trite until it tells me what I am..


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